


Bondmates

by HiddenDirector



Series: Transformers Prime: Course of the War [2]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:45:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2337380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenDirector/pseuds/HiddenDirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SEQUEL TO PAIN AND PLEASURE!  After their encounter in the medbay, Breakdown finally asks Knockout the most important question of their lifecycles.  However, his answer will not only change the nature of their relationship, but the course of the Decepticons and the war forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers, Knockout, Breakdown, Megatron, or any characters, places, or things associated with any of them. They all belong to Hasbro/Takara.
> 
> Note: First of all, I meant to say in Pain and Pleasure that I’m aware that I spell Knock Out as one word (Knockout) when I refer to him in my fanfics, and this isn’t technically how it’s supposed to be spelled. The reason for this is actually pretty simple, and rather lazy. It’s simply easier to type quickly if I use one word for his name. No one really complained before, but I felt like people were thinking about it, so I just thought I’d point it out.
> 
> Note 2: I gave this fanfic an Explicit rating for future chapters, but not this one. Nothing smutty in this chapter, sorry. Hilariously, this wasn’t originally going to be a chapter fic, but I liked it so much I decided to make it longer than originally intended.
> 
> Note 3: PLEASE READ PAIN AND PLEASURE BEFORE YOU READ THIS. Otherwise you’ll be very confused by some of the references in here.

“Sparkbond with me.”

Knockout nearly dropped the datapad he was reading. It was actually kind of cute to see the usually unflappable Decepticon medic completely caught off-guard. His optics were the size of hubcaps. “I beg your pardon?” he finally sputtered out.

Breakdown didn’t skip a beat. He leaned over the table separating them and grinned. “I wanna sparkbond with you.”

“What in the pit brought _this_ about?”

“Ah, come on, Knockout! We’ve done everything short of it, why not? You can’t tell me you haven’t thought of it.”

The cherry red sports car stared at him a moment before returning to his research notes. “Yes, in fact, I have. But there’s a far cry between thinking of it and doing it.”

“I know that, that’s why I want to sparkbond with you already!”

Knockout rolled his optics, turning in his seat to face away from the distraction of Breakdown’s insistence. “Do you even have an inkling _why_ you want to sparkbond with me? It can’t simply because we interface. After all, if I sparkbonded with everybot I’ve ever interfaced with I wouldn’t have room in my chamber for my _own_ spark, let alone all of those.”

“Because…” Breakdown finally stumbled in his pursuit. He _knew_ why he wanted to. But he couldn’t just outright say the words. That wasn’t the Decepticon way. He’d feel foolish to simply tell Knockout how he felt. How he’d felt from the first moment he woke up on the repair table, a prisoner of war to the Decepticons, and saw that delicately curved chassis and heard his thick, Elite accented vocals.

Among the Autobots there were those who believed that every spark had a unique aura. This aura allowed them to recognize the one other in all of Cybertron whose spark was perfectly compatible with it, who was practically sparked for them.  Breakdown had never believed such romantic nonsense – until he met Knockout. Even before they started their exceedingly physical relationship, he’d felt as if his spark was always pulling towards the effeminate mech. He’d always simply assumed that the medic didn’t feel anything near what he did in their relationship, that the blue truck was simply another plug to pleasure himself with. But then, when he’d come back from his encounter with M.E.C.H…. when Knockout had all but assaulted him in a sudden desperate need to fulfill his sick fetish…

When they’d finished interfacing, Knockout had surprised him with the most baffling outburst. _“You’re_ my _assistant!_ My _partner! I won’t let someone else drive you from me!”_

It was so possessive, so needy. It sparked hope in Breakdown that maybe he was more to Knockout than he had initially perceived. That maybe Knockout wanted to _be_ more than just partners or ‘face-buddies.

“Well, why not?” Breakdown finally asked, feeling stubborn. He’d started this avalanche; he might as well ride it out. It couldn’t break up their partnership, it was too intertwined, and it would take a lot more than stubborn pride to part them. After all, Knockout seemed to consider the truck’s oft-times still very Autobot perspective on some things endearing. “It’s not like having more than one interfacing partner keeps anybot from having bondmates. I mean, look at our Lord Megatron. _He_ has a bondmate, and I can name at least three other bots other than his bondmate he interfaces with.”

“Yes, but that’s Megatron. You really think if Soundwave desired him to be monogamous he could really stop him from ‘facing us? And his relationship with Soundwave was born more of necessity than anything else, if you haven’t noticed. Romance has almost nothing to do with it.”

“Fine, it was a bad example, but you’re avoiding answering my question. Why can’t we be bondmates?”

Red on black optics turned to glance at Breakdown, analyzing. Not him, but how he should respond. The soldier could practically hear the debate going on inside Knockout’s processor over whether to tell him the truth or an easy lie. The answer that came out, however, was so side-blinding that he _wished_ he had simply gone with a lie.

“I already have a bondmate.”

Breakdown couldn’t even respond to that sentence, simply staring at him as if Knockout had punched him in the face. Honestly, he might as well have. After staring at the soldier for what felt like an eternity, gauging his response to this revelation, Knockout finally lowered his optics back to his notes. Whether to avoid his gaze or simply a through a cold apathy of how much impact he had, Breakdown couldn’t tell. He didn’t care. He simply couldn’t wrap his processor around the concept.

Knockout had a _bondmate_.

When?

How?

_Who?_

It had to be before they’d met. This was the first Breakdown had ever heard of such a thing. But they’d been partners for _centuries_. Where in the universe was this bondmate? Why hadn’t they ever met? Wait, what if they _had_ met? There was no reason to think that he would have recognized the signs of a Decepticon bondmate simply by looking at them together. After all, no one who ever looked at how the two interacted would ever guess that Megatron and Soundwave were bondmates. Pit, _Starscream_ acted more like a bondmate to their mighty Lord, and _he_ was a traitorous spark-of-a-glitch. Was it someone he knew? Was it someone on this _ship_? Was Knockout sparkbonding with him whenever Breakdown went on a mission alone? The very thought made him nauseous.

He almost didn’t ask, but he had to know. “ _Who?_ ” He was hoping Knockout would give his delightfully devilish chuckle and tell him he had been messing with the former Autobot.

Knockout didn’t look at him. “You don’t know him. Primus willing, you never will. I suspect he wouldn’t be too thrilled with the idea that he was replaced as my partner. _Work_ partner. Despite how long we’ve been apart, we are still bondmates.”

Breakdown continued to sputter, trying to regain his senses. “I-I don’t understand. I mean, when did this…?”

This time the cherry red medic did look at him. He looked incredulous, and mildly miffed. “I know it’s hard to believe, my dear Breakdown, but I _did_ have a lifecycle before you came around. And a very exciting one at that. Not that working here on the Nemesis hasn’t been a thrill-a-cycle, but there was a time when my services weren’t needed to keep the Decepticon army alive.”

Breakdown simply stared at him. It was as if someone else was wearing Knockout’s faceplate as a disguise. He looked like Knockout, sounded like Knockout, and even acted like Knockout, but he couldn’t believe that _Knockout_ was telling him these things.

Finally, the sports car sighed, turning his notes off and putting them aside, turning to face him across the table. “You’re not leaving until I elaborate, are you?” When all he got in response was the same blank stare, he continued, rubbing his optics with his first and second servos. “Look, you’re obviously having a very Autobot reaction to this news, so I’m going to let the fact that you’re vastly overreacting to this news slide. However, I suggest you find your way back to your own quarters and process your next response to it before you say something you may regret.”

This snapped the truck out of his daze, slamming his servos on the desk and standing up, growling, “Fine!” He then turned and stormed out of the infirmary, leaving Knockout shaking his head in disbelief.

 

()()()()()

 

Breakdown sat on the berth in his quarters, staring at his reflection in the monitor above the powered-down computer there. He touched the optic patch that had replaced the damage done by MECH. They were supposed to repair it, but when they found they didn’t have the resources here on Earth to do so, Megatron had taken it upon himself to decide it would be the perfect time to make an example. The optic patch was his badge of shame, marking the mistake he’d made and weakness he’d shown by getting captured by squishies.

_“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic.” Knockout had said. “Nobot is perfect. You simply get up, and you move on to your next target, and hope for the best.”_

_“Target?” Breakdown inquired, confused._

_“Target, job, mission, it’s all the same. The point is, it’s only failure if you don’t come back alive.”_

_“That doesn’t seem to be what Our Lord thinks.”_

_“Yes, well, he has a different definition of failure than most. His guidelines are stricter. However, I believe that a successful job is any you can walk away from.”_

_“If you say so…”_

_Knockout reached up and touched the optic patch, gently kissing his faceplate right next to it. “I do say so. And besides, optic patches are sexy.”_

 

Breakdown knew he was being unfair, being so angry at Knockout for having a bondmate. As he’d said, it was long before they’d met. But for some reason, he couldn’t imagine a Knockout different from the one he had fallen for. Well, that probably wasn’t very fair, either. Who said he had to have been a different mech back then? He could easily see somebot else falling for the Knockout he did. Pit, most of the Decepticons he knew had at least berthed him. He hated processing that, of how promiscuous the medic was without showing even a little shame for it.

That thought caused him to feel a bit sorry, for whoever his bondmate was, however. After all, if Breakdown felt so much pain just processing the fact that Knockout had a hard time staying on one berth for long, how painful did it have to be for his bondmate? If the stories of sparkbonding were true, he could probably feel every interface that wasn’t his own. Did he feel every time _they_ interfaced? Was somebot out there offlining a little inside every time Breakdown fulfilled his own selfish pleasure with the cherry red sports car?

Did that bondmate even care? After all, he wasn’t here. Knockout said Breakdown had never met his bondmate. That meant that somewhere out there in the universe, the medic’s supposed one true mate was running around doing Primus knows what leaving Knockout stranded on Earth with an army that reveled in taking advantage of him. Great, now he was thinking too hard about it. He couldn’t help it, though. Did Knockout’s bondmate cheat on him just as much? Was he out there somewhere interfacing with other bots at this moment?

What could separate two bondmates like this, anyway? If the soldier was Knockout’s bondmate, he’d never let the medic out of his sight. Pit, he _wasn’t_ his bondmate and he _still_ acted like more of one than his actual one was.

_“Why in the world do you keep insisting on following me everywhere?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I know I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you for your probationary period while you adjust to being a Decepticon instead of an Autobot, but that doesn’t mean we have to spend_ every klik _together.”_

_“…I dunno. Maybe I just wanna be close to you.”_

_Knockout paused in his stride, staring at the now traitor Breakdown, only cycles ago having been re-branded with the Decepticon symbol. He raised an optic ridge. “Pardon?”_

_Breakdown cringed. That had been_ way _more forward than he had intended. “I… I mean, you know…” he fumbled with his next words, trying to recover whatever ground he might have lost with the Decepticon medic._

_Knockout’s shoulders began to shake, and after a moment a loud guffaw escaped his delicate lip components. “You… ahaha… you have to be… hahahaha… joking me…”_

_“Hey, what’s so funny?” Breakdown bristled. He hated being made fun of, even by a pretty mech like this one. It’d always been a sore spot with him._

_“I-I’m sorry, that was just… haha… that was just such an Autobot response…” The cherry red mech finally calmed himself, reaching up and surprising the large soldier with a gentle brush of his servos upon the former Autobot’s faceplate. “You’re very cute, for being so big. Maybe I’ll enjoy having you around more often after all.”_

 

It was a memory Breakdown cherished over all others, no matter how many he recalled of their many physical encounters. It was the first time he’d broken through Knockout’s cold, dangerous exterior. He was the whole reason he left the Autobots and joined up with the ‘Cons. He didn’t care about Megatron or his goals. But he decided he wanted to assist and protect this gorgeous medic for as long as he would have him.

And now he might have ended that, by being a jealous idiot. Knockout didn’t deserve that. He deserved a lot of things, but not that. He had to go apologize to the effeminate mech. Sure, they could never be bondmates, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still be partners. And they could still have their physical relationship, as much as it hurt to think of that being all it could be. He’d take what he could get.

 

()()()()()

 

Breakdown was about to open the door to the infirmary when he heard Knockout’s vocals emerge. Something sounded different about them. Softer, more affectionate. Every word was just short of a purr.

“Somebot simply said something that reminded me how long it’s been…”

Another voice, this one gruff and gravely, but carrying that same tone of close familiarity, responded. The slight staticky sound to it told Breakdown it was coming from the computer, somebot over communications. Breakdown looked one way then the other down the hall to make sure no one was watching, then pushed an audio receptor against the door. He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on his partner, but he had to know who this was.

“I keep meaning to call, kid, but I’ve been busy. You wouldn’t believe how much business has been coming my way lately.”

“Yes, that’s probably our fault. The war down here on Earth is getting rather heated. Between Our Lord returning to full power and the growing army…”

“Whoa, whoa, _Our_ Lord? You going full on ‘Con down there?”

“Come now, you know I have a spark meant for the freedom of neutrality. But Lord Megatron is paying good credits for my services, and we always make good on our deals.”

“Yeah, your services that were supposed to end centuries ago. What the pit is going on with that?”

Breakdown could actually hear the hesitation in Knockout’s vocals.

“Something came up. The contract was extended legitimately; I know you have a copy of the renewed agreement. I’ll come back when my job is done.”

Apparently, the mech he was speaking to heard the hesitation as well, as there was a long pause before he responded.

“I’m coming down there.”

“Lock-!”

“No, I’m coming down there. Unless you want to tell me what you’re hiding from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything! You know I hate when you check up on me! I’m a big bot; I can take care of myself!”

“No buts, kid, I’m coming down. ‘Sides, it’s lonely here in space without you.”

“Don’t you try getting romantic on me, you have jobs to do! If we get behind in our finances, I’ll never forgive you!”

“See ya soon, kid.”

“Don’t you discon…! Spawn of a glitch, how dare he disconnect on me?!”

Breakdown backpedaled from the door, retreating down the hall. Knockout’s bondmate was coming to Earth, and he now had the first part of a name. Lock. Not much help, in the Autobots alone he knew at least four bots with a designation starting with Lock. Six in the Decepticons. From the sound of it, this was no Autobot or Decepticon, but instead a neutral. That didn’t mean anything. Bots went neutral all the time, whether on the run for crimes committed, or just sick of fighting in a seemingly never-ending war.

More importantly, back to the original point, Knockout’s bondmate was _coming to Earth_. Knockout fought to stop him, but to no avail. He wanted to question why, but he knew. The sports car said it himself. _“You don’t know him. Primus willing you never will.”_ The medic was trying to keep the two of them from meeting. Why he was so adamant about it, he was still unsure. But he supposed he’d find out soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Airachnid joins the cast directly following the events of Metal Attraction. Breakdown learns something new about Knockout, and the spider-like femme gets a titter out of his ignorance in all matters Decepticon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This takes place after the events of Metal Attraction. I figured since Pain and Pleasure and the last chapter took place after Operation: Breakdown, it wouldn’t be too long later for this chapter. That and I really wanted to do something with the whole Breakdown and Airachnid being stuck together thing.
> 
> Note 2: The promised interfacing is here. Just thought you'd like to know.

“Breakdown, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but…”

“Don’t say it, Knockout.”

“You’ve got a little something right… there…”

“Primus, could you just… remove her?”

“Only if Megatron only wants half a femme for a soldier.”

“Touch me and die, medibot.”

“Oooh, touchy.”

Breakdown sighed, running a hand over his faceplate. It was humiliating enough to face Megatron with Airachnid magnetically attached to his back. He never thought Knockout could possibly make it worst. “Fine, what do you suggest?” he asked, propping an elbow on his knee and resting the chin of his faceplate in his servos.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll wear off eventually. Until that happens, I’m afraid you’re stuck with her,” Knockout shrugged, sitting in the seat next to his desk and crossing his legs. He seemed to be enjoying this. “Honestly, though, if you wanted a pet you could have just asked. Picking up strays is dangerous. You never know what kind of virus they may have.”

“Come over here and say that to my faceplate!” Airachnid snapped, trying to move towards him. Breakdown remained where he was, though, sighing loudly again. This was a disaster.

“If I’m stuck with you could you at least _try_ and get along?”

“He started it! Fragging neutral!”

“Oh, like _you’re_ one to talk,” the cherry red mech drawled out. “You’re the one who went completely rogue on us.”

“Never took the Decepticon sigil off, if you didn’t notice. You’re just Decepticon for hire!”

“That’s right. And you better be nice to me.”

“Oh? Or what?”

“Lockdown’s coming down.”

Breakdown twisted around to stare at his partner, making the spider-like femme attached to his back yelp in annoyance. “Your bondmate’s _Lockdown_?!”

Knockout hesitated a moment, then sat straight, holding his helm high. “That’s right.”

“Wait, you didn’t _know_?” Airachnid asked incredulously. “I mean… everyone knows that!” She then paused. “Wait, did you say Lockdown’s coming here? To Earth? Why in the Pit would he come to this slaghole?!”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because _I’m_ here?”

“Yeah, when’s the last time we saw him? About three millennia ago? What in the name of Primus happened to him between then and now?”

“Will you just drop it? He’s been busy! As have I, for that matter!”

“Back the scrap up!” Breakdown cut in. “Can we talk about the fact that Lockdown’s your bondmate?”

“Yes? What about it?” Knockout looked evenly at him. It was almost… challenging.

“As in bounty bot Lockdown? Probably the most dangerous neutral mech alive Lockdown? The Lockdown Megatron has been trying for millennia to recruit? _That_ Lockdown?”

“Well, considering he’s the only Lockdown I know of, I’d say that would be the one.”

Airachnid tittered. “Aww, what’s wrong, Breakdown? You sound so nervous.”

Breakdown glared over his shoulder plate at her. “Well, considering I spent the better time of my career as an Autobot soldier being told horror stories about what Lockdown would _do_ to an Autobot he was sent after. I’ve heard all about both Autobot and Decepticon soldiers who’d turn up at the doorstep of whoever hired him, usually offline, scrapped, and looking like they were torn limb-from-limb. There were nights I couldn’t recharge because of him.”

“That’s cute,” the femme laughed.

“And highly exaggerated. Lockdown doesn’t torture or dismember his targets unless provoked,” Knockout pointed out. “Most of that was my doing.”

“ _You_?!” the truck stared at his partner in horror, as if he’d never met him before.

“Oh, come on. Are you really that surprised, knowing everything you do about me? I’m a sadist. I get great pleasure torturing mechs larger than myself.”

“Unlike me,” Airachnid cut in. “I just like torturing everyone.”

“Yes. Unlike you, I have standards,” the medic rolled his optics.

“Oh, don’t get all high and mighty on me,” Airachnid snapped.

“Okay, can we stop getting off subject?” Breakdown interrupted again. “So _you’re_ the mech everybot always saw travelling with him?”

“Yes. Is that really hard to believe? What did you always hear about Lockdown’s partner?” Knockout asked.

Breakdown thought long and hard about the old stories. It’d been so long since he heard any of them.

_“So anyway, I’m sitting there, scoping out all these seedy looking bots. Every one of them looked scummier than the one next to them.”_

_“Not surprising. That’s a pretty nasty bar.”_

_“I know. So all the sudden, the door opens and in walks… I don’t even know how to describe him. He just might have been the shiniest mech I’ve ever seen. I knew just looking at him he was Elite. And all I could think was, ‘What’s a good-looking mech like him doing in a run-down, seedy place like this?’”_

_“Yeah? So did you go talk to him?”_

_“I didn’t get the chance. Soon as he sat down at the bar, it was like every mech in the room suddenly got hot and bothered. Started going up and asking him all the usual questions. What he was doing there, if he was alone, if he wanted to go in the back.”_

_“Not even trying to be subtle, eh?”_

_“Not even. So, yeah, he just keeps turning them down. Now, mechs like these, they don’t usually take no for an answer. But there’s something about him that makes him just… exude this air of danger when he wants to. Any mech he didn’t want coming near him backed down.”_

_“Okay, now I’m curious. What’d he look like?”_

_“I remember he was red. Like, the same kind of red you get when you want to attract a_ lot _of attention. And believe me, it worked. Every helm in that bar was turned toward him. He stuck out like a sore servo. A really,_ really _hot sore servo. He didn’t have a sigil. And these weird optics. They were all black and red.”_

_“Sounds like a ‘Con trait to me. Can’t think of any ‘Bot who’d wanna have something creepy like that.”_

_“That’s the thing. On him, it wasn’t creepy at all. It was… almost alluring. The way he sat, you knew he was trying to attract someone to him. But I couldn’t tell who. At least, not until this one mech walks in. I’ll be glitched if it wasn’t the ‘Con I was sent to bust. He goes right up to that red mech and starts talking to him, and now that mech starts getting all… clingy. It took all of ten kliks for them to retreat to the back room. I couldn’t go back there and bust him like that; the Elite kid could’ve gotten caught in the crosshairs.”_

_“Understandable. You just waited for them to finish their business then?”_

_“Yeah, I would’ve. Except then things got real quiet for a while. Then that ‘Con starts screaming something fierce. I jumped up and was going to intervene. When I got to the door to the back, though, it opened and… well…”_

_“What?”_

_“Don’t leave us hanging!”_

_“What happened?!”_

_“Lockdown walked out.”_

_“You’re kidding.”_

_“Nope. He just saunters on out, staring me down._ Challenging _me to go back there. That ‘Con was still screaming, but Lockdown was standing there. Meaning it had to be that Elite mech.”_

_“Always the pretty ones, right?”_

_“Always.”_

_“So I thought about going back there, but then I decided my lifecycle was a lot more important than some Decepticon scumbag’s. So I just backed off, and Lockdown glares around the bar. He then snaps for everyone to leave. The whole place just cleared out in kliks. I was with them. Whatever was happening, I didn’t want a part of it.”_

_“No one blames you.”_

_“Seriously. Lockdown? Scrap, you made the right call. Who’d’ve thought he’d have a cute little Elite mech in his pocket, though?”_

_“Probably threatened him. Forced him to be his partner.”_

_“All I know? I’ll offline a happy mech if I never meet either of them.”_

_“Seconded.”_

_“No scrap about it.”_

Breakdown snapped out of it, glancing back at his partner, who waited patiently for his response. “Well, slag. It really is you, isn’t it? You’re that pretty Elite mech my buddy talked about.”

“You had a friend who talked about me? I’m flattered. Being as he lived to tell the tale, I’m assuming he wasn’t a target.”

“No scrap,” the black femme said boredly. “Can we go do something? I hate just sitting around like this.”

“What do you propose we do like this?” Breakdown snapped at her.

“I don’t know. Anything. Don’t you guys still have a rec-room on this fragging ship? We can go laugh at the stupid human entertainment or something. _Anything_.”

“Fine. You coming, Knockout?” Breakdown didn’t want to drop the subject, but he could tell this wasn’t a conversation he should have with company there.

“No, I have work to get done. You two go have fun.”

 

()()()()()

 

“So,” Airachnid clicked the button on the controller for the rec-room view-screen rapidly, Breakdown sitting sideways on the seat in front of it so they could both see. They had set the view-screen to pick up human frequencies, trying to find something interesting and hopefully amusing in the jumble of consumerism and too-much-information. “You’re adjusting well to Decepticon life. How’s the partnership with Knockout going?”

“What do you care?”

“I don’t. But we might as well talk until I can find something that doesn’t show either humans baring their gross anatomy or doing something that causes mechanical destruction. Seriously, this is starting to get depressing.”

“Fine. I like being partners with Knockout. He can take care of himself, so I don’t have to spend a lot of time making sure he stays out of trouble.”

“Of course he can. Do you really think Lockdown would have a partner he’d have to constantly sparkling-sit?” The Decepticon femme glanced at him half a klik before looking back at the screen. “You really didn’t know Knockout is Lockdown’s partner?”

“No. As an Autobot, no one knew his name. We just knew Lockdown had a good-looking Elite partner. Never really put two-and-two together, since I’ve only ever known Knockout as a Decepticon.”

“I still don’t see how this is so shocking. I mean, that medic has all the signs of a neutral, even after all these millennia.”

“When _did_ he join the Decepticons?”

“About three-thousand stellars ago. Our mighty lord decided he needed another medic with all the scrap going on with the ‘Bots. So, knowing after all the times he was turned down he probably wouldn’t fare any better this time, he struck up a contract with Knockout and Lockdown. He pays Lockdown directly for use of his partner.”

“I can’t see Megatron taking ‘no’ for an answer when asking somebot to join him.”

“He wouldn’t usually. In fact, usually he’d scrap anyone who refused. If you’re not with him you’re against him and all that. But Lockdown and Knockout are too useful to him. Lockdown does all the work he needs doing that a Decepticon would put up alerts with.”

Breakdown thought over that. “But everybot still knows to be on alert when Lockdown’s around. Why haven’t the Autobots just taken him out?”

“Because the Autobots pay for his services, too. Not as much as Megatron does, but enough that he’s just as useful for them. It’s the advantage of being neutral; you never have to tie yourself to one alliance. Lockdown kills enough Autobots for our lord that it makes up for every Decepticon he does the same to.” She suddenly grinned. “So, tell me. What’s it like ‘facing with a mech like Knockout.”

Breakdown spat out the oil he was drinking. “Excuse me?!”

“Oh, come on. One, everyone knows you two have done it. And two, Knockout has a reputation. He’s an overpaid pleasure model, everybot knows it.”

“Pleasure models don’t dismember Autobots. And if you call him one again, I’ll kick your aft. I don’t care if you’re a femme.”

The servo clicking through channels stopped. She stared at him, open-mouthed. It wasn’t that he’d just threatened her. That just meant he was definitely a Decepticon now. It was that he was defending Knockout’s honor. That was very much _not_ a Decepticon trait. Her lip-components then broke into a grin. “Oh Primus… don’t tell me…” she made a ‘pfffft!’ sound before bursting out laughing. “You’re in _love_ with him!”

“Shut up!”

“You’re not even denying it! You’ve gotta be kidding me! You fell for our sultry little sadist?”

Breakdown almost did start denying it. He knew it was too late, though. She’d already figured it out. “So? What’s your point?”

“Oh, my poor one-opticed idiot! You already know Knockout and Lockdown are bondmates!”

“That doesn’t stop him from getting on the berth of every mech on two pedes. What’s your point?”

“Yes, but most of them are just doing it because they don’t want to be let out! You actually… how long?”

The large blue mech rolled his optic. “What does it matter?”

“I just have to know. Was it love at first sight?” There was a pause. “Oh, Spark! It _was_! How sweet! Oh, you’re a dead-mech walking, you big lug.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on! Lockdown’s coming _here_! He takes one look at you two and how cozy you are, and he’s going to lose his _processor_ with jealousy! After all, he hasn’t seen Knockout for nearly ever! He’s going to freak out that he got replaced!”

 

()()()()()

 

Knockout looked up when his computer started beeping at him. An incoming transmission. He knew that frequency anywhere. So he pushed the button on the console.

“Hello again, darling,” he purred.

A large, dark mech with a white, skull-shaped faceplate appeared on the screen. “Hey, kid,” the rough, gravelly vocals answered. A pleasurable shudder ran through every one of the medic’s systems. It’d been so long since they’d talked this much.

“I’ll take it there’s no chance you’re calling to tell me you changed your mind?”

“No, but nice try. I just want you to know my ETA’s in about a megacycle. That little scrap-hole of a planet you ended up on is _way_ outta the way.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted to spare you.”

“That’s sweet, kid. And you’re an excellent liar. But I’ve known you too long for that to work.”

“Slaggit, Lockdown,” all of the sweetness left Knockout’s vocals. He crossed his arms over his chestplate. “Will you just do what I ask for once and get back to work? When I’m done here you can put me on a leash all you want.”

“As sexy as you’d look on a leash, and as much as I’m going to hold you to that, I’ll still feel better if I come down there. What’re you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding anything from you, I told you,” Knockout insisted.

Lockdown snorted. “Kid, you’re a pain in the aft, but you’re my pain in the aft. I know something’s up, and I don’t like when you don’t tell me these things.”

The sports car hesitated, looking away from the screen. Lockdown was right. He knew him too well. “You’re going to find out when you get here anyway, aren’t you?”

“You bet I am.”

“Fine. But promise you won’t overreact.”

“I never overreact.”

“Oh, _that’s_ a laugh.”

“Fine, I promise I won’t overreact.”

Another second of hesitation and Knockout finally admitted, “I have a partner.”

“Partner? Like a work partner?”

“Yes. And a… berth partner.”

“Kid, you’ve interfaced with more mechs than I could…”

“A regular one. We’re… close.”

There was a pause on the other end as Lockdown absorbed that information. “You haven’t…?”

“No. I’d never sparkbond with anyone but you.”

“Good.”

“…But I’ve thought about it.”

Lockdown banged a fist on the console on his end of the transmission, features twisting furiously. “Scrap it all, Knockout! I’ll kill him!”

“You promised you wouldn’t overreact! I told you I just thought about it, I didn’t actually do it!”

“I won’t have a repeat of it, Knockout! I won’t lose you again, not to anybot!”

“Lockdown, just calm down!” It was Knockout’s turn to slam his open-servos on his consol. “He’s harmless! Just an Autobot traitor I enjoy having around! He could never replace you!”

“That’s what you said last time!”

Knockout cringed. “That was different…”

“How? How was that any different from this?”

“It… it just is! Look, I’d rather not argue about this. I’m overworked, and stressed, and…”

“Yeah,” Lockdown vented out a long breath, sitting back down heavily. “You know I just don’t want…”

“I know. And I won’t. I promise. I may not like staying in one berth for too long, but my spark can only ever belong to you. I learned my lesson.”

“Good. I… I should go. I’ll see you in a megacycle.”

“Yes, that would be for the best. Just promise you won’t hurt him. He still hasn’t fully wrapped his head around the concept of you yet.” Knockout reached out and touched the screen, smiling tiredly. “…I love you.”

“I know. Me too,” Lockdown’s servos disappeared off the screen as the gesture was returned. “See ya, kid.”

 

()()()()()

 

“Unh… yes…” Knockout arched his back, moaning loudly. The sound nearly drove Breakdown over the brink right there. They decided to celebrate his separation from the Decepticon femme in the same manner they celebrated nearly everything else that happened. Pleasurably.

“You like that?”

“Scrap, you know I do… now don’t stop…”

Breakdown was only too glad to comply, thrusting his plug up inside his partner’s tight port rapidly. Clawed servos dug into his arms, scraping the paint off as they ran down. He retaliated by attacking the medic’s mouth, invading it with his glossa. The kiss was savage and needy, but his feelings for the smaller mech were just the same. His conversation with Airachnid started making him think of what was going to happen when Lockdown arrived on the planet. Could he really give Knockout up to the bounty bot? Did Lockdown even deserve him? After all, he could have offered his own services, stayed with his bondmate in the Decepticons and watched over him. Instead, here Knockout was in Breakdown’s arms instead, getting reamed out by _his_ plug and not his own bondmate’s. The large blue mech still couldn’t wrap his helm around the concept, how anyone could leave this desirable, sexy medic at the mercy of the Decepticon forces.

“Breakdown…” Knockout purred the word breathlessly, throwing his helm back, optics shuttered. The soldier took advantage of the change, attacking the wires in his neck hungrily. He drew out delightful gasps from him, hands leaving their job of trying to remove all of the paint from his arms to wrap his arms around Breakdown’s neck encouragingly.

Breakdown nipped and licked at the sensitive wires, his own hands grasping and rubbing his partner’s thin waist while at the same time maintaining leverage to continue his thick plug’s assault upon Knockout’s opening. The medic’s own plug dripped lubricant upon his chassis, shuddering in pleasure. Powerful legs wrapped around Breakdown’s waist, trying to push him deeper still.

The former Autobot couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it felt like for Knockout and Lockdown when they interfaced. No, it was better for them. Because they could complete the connection by sparkbonding. How jealous he felt that he could never know the same feeling. Because as promiscuous as Knockout was on the berth, he was still adamantly loyal in spark to his bondmate. That jealousy only fueled a deeper need for him.

“Ah! Breakdown!” Knockout cried out as Breakdown’s thrusting became harder and faster, grasping the medic’s knees and untangling his legs from around his waist, pushing them further up and apart as he desperately interfaced with him. His mouth once again claimed his partner’s beautiful lip components, eliciting a moan from his cherry red partner. He felt the walls of Knockout’s port shudder around his plug, indicating that he was close to overloading. Breakdown knew he couldn’t last much longer either, but if he wanted to win Knockout over from his bounty bot bondmate, he had to prove he was more of a mech than Lockdown. He had to outlast his partner.

The large truck reached between them with one hand, grasping Knockout’s plug in his servos as their glossas wrestled for control, and began pumping it in the same rapid rhythm as his pistoning plug. Finally, vents desperately cycling, Knockout released his mouth, throwing his helm back and crying out as his plug exploded. Lubricant rushed forth, coating them both as his chassis shook at the force.

Breakdown thrust in a few more times before letting go himself, lubricant filling every cavity of his partner’s port. Knockout likely didn’t see this as any different from all the other times they’d interfaced. But it was different this time. This time as Breakdown emptied his plug into the pulsing tubing, he was laying claim. This chassis was his. No matter who else interfaced with him, they couldn’t change that Knockout was _his_. Not even Lockdown could take that away from him.

And eventually, his spark would belong to him too. If he had to go through Lockdown to get it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockdown finally arrives, Soundwave expresses concern for the visit, Airachnid is disgusted by open affection, and Breakdown remembers the first time Knockout showed him a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to have the Autobots appear this chapter, but nixed it because I didn’t like where it was going. Don’t worry, though, I’ve got plenty in store for them as well!

Megatron stood before the great monitor on the Nemesis bridge watching his men work. Everything he had done, everything he worked for, was to bring this day. Nothing could stop it now. Not the Autobots. Not the incompetence of his own men. Nothing.

“Lord Megatron. I was informed you wanted to speak to me.”

The mighty lord of the Decepticons didn’t even turn around to acknowledge the approach of the medic. “Yes, I do indeed. There is much to discuss.” He pushed a button on the monitor and it switched off, eliminating the distraction. “First of all, allow me to congratulate you on the recovery of the last of the Synthetic Energon. Despite having lost most of it, the last drop will be of some use to us when the need calls for it. My best scientists are already working with it to determine the chemical compound. It is good to know that in the absence of my former Second in Command, Starscream, I still have somewhat competent help.”

“Er… thank you, my lord,” Knockout raised an optic-ridge, unable to tell where this was going. It was very rare for their lord to acknowledge the achievements of his men, especially when it was born of complete failure of the original objective.

“Meanwhile, we are well on our way to complete that which I have waited eons to achieve. Also largely thanks to you. The credits going to your partner for your services are well-paid. Despite some of your… more obvious detriments, you have performed far beyond the expectations of your contract.”

Knockout said nothing this time. He wasn’t sure what his ‘detriments’ were, at least not in the eyes of his leader, but there had to be a catch behind it all. Megatron never freely gave compliment without expecting something in return.

“I have recently become aware of your partner nearing the planet.”

The medic shrugged. He didn’t keep it a secret. He honestly knew as soon as Airachnid found out that the entire fortress would spread it like wildfire. Eradicons were worse than old femmes when it came to gossip. “Lockdown should be arriving any solar now. This won’t be a problem for your plans, will it?”

“No, quite the contrary. You and Lockdown speak the intergalactic language of Anything-for-Enough-Credit, do you not?”

Knockout smirked, placing a hand on his hip and the other on his chestplate. “Now, my lord, you know the answer to that already, don’t you? I’ve done _plenty_ for you on your credit. The only thing I’ve ever surprised myself on is what I’ve willingly done _without_ asking for pay.”

Megatron finally turned, glancing at the medic. It was very true; he’d spent much time indulging himself in the… services of the cherry red mech. As the leader of the Decepticon forces, he had a duty to assert his dominance over certain more free-willed members of his men. Starscream had always fought hard against it, one of the few things he _did_ openly and actively fight against in his lord’s rule. Knockout, however, had jumped on the chance to allow the mighty lord to bend him to his will, quite literally. He’d only once taken advantage of the medic since his recent return to power, though, mostly through a realization of his own mortality. He would never admit to his army that he acknowledged his own weaknesses, but it hung over him like a bad stink now. If his current plan came through, he’d never have to worry about it again. The Blood of Unicron could sustain his spark for an eternity.

“Perhaps then,” Megatron continued the conversation, “Lockdown is exactly what I need to keep Prime and his men at bay. While I’m sure your partner would have the superior skill and strength to take each down individually, even he would have trouble if one of them called for reinforcements. However, all I need is for him to keep them occupied while we await the alignment.”

Knockout strode forward, chuckling. “Lord Megatron, pay him enough credits and he’ll bring you Optimus Prime’s helm on a silver platter.”

The towering leader growled, grabbing the hand reaching towards him severely and yanking the startled medic forward. Megatron’s clawed servos curled under Knockout’s faceplate and tilting it up so they were optic-to-startled-optic. “Let me make one thing clear, medic. _I_ am the only one who receives the honor of killing Optimus Prime. His helm _will_ be rend from his body, but it will only be by _my_ sword. You make sure to make that perfectly clear to your partner, or I will be having _your_ helm as well. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Knockout swallowed hard, waiting to be released.

Megatron held him like that for a few moments more before releasing him roughly. Knockout turned and fled quickly, despite not being asked to leave. The Decepticon lord made no attempt to stop him, though. He passed Soundwave as he left, not even acknowledging his presence in his hurry.

Megatron sneered at the retreating medic, turning back to the monitor but not turning it on again. Soundwave strode silently up behind him, coming to a stop just behind his left shoulder plate. Long, thin servos reached up and curled around the thick armor of his shoulder.

“You’re worried about the bounty bot coming here.” It wasn’t a guess or a question. It was a statement.

The silent officer’s helm nodded curtly. _“He’s harmless! Just an Autobot traitor I enjoy having around!”_ Knockout’s vocals emerged from within him. Soundwave made a point of monitoring and recording all of the transmissions to and from the Nemesis.

“I’m aware of the… complications of the situation. Let the three of them work out their issues. We have more important things to worry about.” Megatron tapped at the console, the image of the Space Bridge’s progress appearing before him. He said no more, simply staring at the rapidly building construction.

Soundwave remained as silent as always. He still worried, though. Not of his master and his plans for the Dark Energon he searched for. While all other Decepticons thought he had lost his mind, that his plans could never reach fruition because he was chasing legends and rumors, he never lost faith in his mighty lord. Megatron was his leader, his master, and his bondmate. There was no romance between them, simply a distinct understanding of exactly where each stood before each other. Megatron would forever lead the Decepticons, and bring them to victory, and Soundwave would forever make sure nothing stood in the way of that.

And though Megatron wasn’t worried about what would occur between the three mechs, Soundwave couldn’t stop doing so. He simply had the feeling things were going to take a turn for the worst. He’d have to keep his optics on Lockdown, Knockout, and Breakdown.

 

()()()()()

 

Breakdown made his way through the ship with no real purpose, simply trying to find something to occupy himself with. He found himself restless with the impending arrival of Lockdown, and if he couldn’t keep himself busy he drove himself half mad.

That was when he saw Knockout marching down the hall with far more purpose than he had, dentals clenched.

“Hey, what’s wro-?”

That was all the truck could get out before being shoved into the adjacent room roughly. Breakdown stumbled but found his balance as Knockout pressed the button sliding and locking the door before rushing forward and all but jumping on the soldier, pushing their lip components together.

After a few minutes of the desperate wrestling of glossas and groping servos, they finally parted, venting heavily. “So…” Breakdown panted out, one hand grasping Knockout by the aft, the other holding a leg which managed to wind around his in the excitement. “Meeting with Megatron went well, then?”

“He complimented me,” Knockout huffed. “ _Twice_. Implied he wanted to hire Lockdown. Then physically assaulted me. Scared me out of my wits.”

“So a _very_ good meeting with Megatron.”

“Spectacular,” the medic growled, pulling Breakdown’s faceplate down for another heated kiss. “Would have gotten even better if Soundwave hadn’t walked in on us. That overrated security mech is a nuisance.”

Breakdown rolled his optic. Soundwave had always had a reputation for interrupting Megatron’s ‘extracurricular activities’ with his soldiers if he had nothing better to do with his time. Not that it typically stopped the Decepticon leader, who would either order him away or simply keep going anyway, but it definitely made it awkward for the other bot involved.

“Great, so now you have some interfacial-tension to release, right?” he guessed. It was obvious, honestly, but Knockout had a weird thing for when Breakdown pointed out the obvious.

“Mmm, yes please,” the cherry red medic purred, pressing their chassis together. His pelvic plating felt tight and uncomfortable.

Breakdown’s wasn’t feeling any better. “I can live with that,” he chuckled, lifting the medic off his pedes and allowing him to wrap his powerful legs around his waist. At least he finally found something to do with his time.

 

()()()()()

 

“Remind me why I’m here.”

“You’re my backup in case the Autobots happen to show up.”

“I gathered that. Let me clarify. Why am _I_ here, and not your partner?”

Knockout glanced sideways at Airachnid. She had complained the entire way to the rendezvous point they had set up with Lockdown, and now insisted on complaining the entire time they waited as well. It was getting, to put it shortly, extremely irritating. “Because I don’t want the first thing Lockdown to do when he lands to be to kill Breakdown. It would put just a bit of strain on our reunion.”

Airachnid snorted. “A bit.”

They had decided the best way for this to happen was to arrange the bounty hunter’s arrival in the middle of nowhere instead of landing directly on the Nemesis. That way, in the slim chance the Autobots picked up his arrival, they wouldn’t be led directly to the flying fortress. A few Eradicons had positioned themselves strategically around the area, most in hiding, in case they were needed. The spider-like femme was the insurance that if the Autobots _did_ show up they would have plenty of time to ground-bridge out.

They waited what felt like an eternity. Knockout became increasingly edgy the longer it took, tapping his pede, pacing back and forth, chewing the tip of a servo.

“You’re driving me crazy! Stop it!” the femme with him finally snapped.

“I can’t help it! You try going millennia without seeing your bondmate and see how nervous you get about him coming back!”

“I don’t _have_ a bondmate.”

“Well, that’s your damage, not mine.”

“I swear, medibot, some days I just want to-”

The arguing was ended as a great ball of fire got their attention. It was a spaceship entering orbit. Nowhere near the size of the Nemesis, instead meant to hold only a few bots. It took Airachnid less than a few seconds once it was close enough to realize it was the exact shade red that the medic was, if nowhere near as glossy. It had seen battle, that much was obvious, and seemed to lean a little to the left. Whoever was piloting it, however, still managed to maneuver it perfectly as it descended upon their location. Within minutes it deposited itself onto the clearing, settling as smoke poured from it.

“Is that…?”

“It’s him,” Knockout actually sounded… excited. Airachnid hadn’t seen him this ecstatic since he found out the humans had buildings where they serviced every part of a car until it was clean, shiny, and just like new. If she recalled correctly, they were called “car washes,” and even offered buffing, waxing, and polishing. Megatron never let him go near one, but he swore one day he’d get pampered at one of those if it offlined him.

Once the ship was settled, the platform released and down came a mech Airachnid had only met a few times before. He seemed… bigger than she remembered. And she was pretty sure his arm was a different color before. Still, just being in his presence made her shudder. She wouldn’t admit it to Breakdown, but he made her just as nervous. She had no doubt in a drag-out, knock-down fight they’d be pretty evenly matched, depending on how dirty they both played. But he had plenty of hidden weapons on him that could do more than just leave a few scratches on her paint job.

As soon as the platform was fully lowered, the figure stepping off onto the soft dirt under their pedes, Knockout reacted swiftly. Lockdown accepted him gratefully when the much smaller cherry red mech hit him full-chassis, pressing their lip-components together hungrily. Airachnid rolled her eyes and leaned against a boulder, just waiting for them to get it out of their systems. If they started interfacing right there, though, she was drawing a line. She wanted to get back to the ship before her show was on. She’d taken an odd fascination to an old human program called a ‘soap opera,’ a title which struck her as weird since it had neither excessive amounts of humans cleaning themselves (thank Primus) or singing (for that especially).

As soon as they parted, Knockout and Lockdown stood like that, staring at each other’s faceplates as if they had met for the first time and were trying to memorize every part of them. Finally, the medic spoke. “Well, hello to you, too.”

The bounty-bot chuckled. “Good to know you’ve missed me that much, kid.”

“Like you didn’t miss me.”

“I never said that.” Lockdown leaned down and reclaimed his lips again. Their sparks were so close that they had to fight the urge to release them and reclaim each other once more.

Finally, Airachnid cleared her throat. “As beautiful as this moment is, really I’d love to just capture this on holovid for posterity, I _would_ like to get back to the ship sometime this… oh, I don’t know, _century_.”

Knockout sighed loudly, a long-suffering sound of agony and defeat. “See what you left me to put up with?” he groaned, turning and gesturing towards the femme dramatically. “She can’t even give us five kliks for our reunion.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other again,” Lockdown smirked, giving him one more kiss for good measure and striding forward. He still had the same walk three millennia later that they remembered from when he left. It was a long stride, full of menace and command. There were targets who allowed him to take them in for sheer fear of his powerful presence. “Airachnid, right?” he nodded toward her.

“That’s right.”

“If I remember correctly, you have the same penchant for… _playing_ with your victims Knockout has.”

Said medic scoffed, walking up behind him and attaching himself to the bounty hunter’s arm as if he’d never been parted from it. “Hardly. _She_ doesn’t have class. She more enjoys the slow killing. I’m fonder of everything before that.”

“Yes, truly you’re the epitome of tact,” the femme mocked.

“You see how she speaks to me? I don’t get _any_ respect around here,” Knockout all but whined.

“I don’t know about that. We didn’t get interrupted by any of the mechs you brought with you. How many are hiding out there? I counted thirteen before I left the ship,” Lockdown said off-handedly.

Airachnid looked surprised. “Fifteen. But we were cloaking their signatures and everything, how did you…?”

“Slag, missed two. I’m losing my touch.”

“It’s because you’re getting old, dear,” Knockout teased.

“Hey, hey! What was that about getting no respect?” Lockdown tried to sound offended, but instead came off more amused.

“Okay, now you two are creeping me out. Can we go home now?” Airachnid muttered.

“You’re no fun,” Knockout stuck his glossa out at her.

“Again. Classy.”

“Alright, guess it’s time for me to meet back up with the big-bot,” Lockdown cut off the next impending argument before it could start.

“Aww, I’m actually a bit disappointed. I was hoping the Autobots might attack. I wanted to watch you work again,” the medic huffed.

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance. I’m planning on sticking around a while, and if your Autobot problem is really that bad I’m sure Megatron will want to talk to me about that.”

“Ah, yes. About that. He did already talk to me. I’ll tell you on the ship.”

“Good idea. Oh, and before I forget,” Lockdown reached into a hidden compartment of his hip. He pulled out a remote and pushed a button on it. The ship behind him seemed to waver as if it were a mirage, then was replaced with a holographic image copying the forest surrounding the clearing. “Don’t want anyone stumbling across the Death’s Head by accident.”

“Death’s Head. Charming.”

“Oh, shut up for once, Airachnid,” Knockout hissed.

 

()()()()()

 

“Ah, Lockdown. Welcome aboard the Nemesis,” Megatron stood at his place at the head of the bridge, Eradicons working tirelessly around him. He didn’t move to greet him, even to shake servos, but instead simply stood in the powerful, menacing way that everyone was pretty well used to. He was exerting an air of superiority even greater than usual, though, likely due to the presence of the large bounty hunter. He needed to make sure everyone kept in mind that no matter how large or intimidating Lockdown was, his word was still law. If he ordered everyone to turn on the bounty-bot and attack, it would be done no questions asked.

“Very nice,” Lockdown rubbed his chin with his servos, looking around the impressive vessel. “I’ve been aboard a lot of warships in my time, but this has to be the most impressive. To be expected, I guess, from the great and mighty Megatron.” There was no mocking tone to his words. Lockdown was an expert at charm, and finessing his clients was something he was especially good at, especially since he lost his partner’s abilities in the same subject.

“Indeed. You remember my Intel Specialist, Soundwave,” Megatron nodded behind him, where Soundwave turned to face them.

“Hard to forget. I used to get all my best information through his network,” the bounty hunter nodded to the silent bot. Soundwave nodded back before turning back to his screen.

“You’ve already met Airachnid, I see. The only one I believe you haven’t met before among my men is Breakdown, who joined our forces after you had left your partner to us.”

Knockout cringed looking at Lockdown, whose white face darkened at the name. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet,” the dark mech growled.

“Yes, he won’t be joining us for now. He is on a solo mission and will be gone until further notice.”

The medic sighed in relief, hoping no one noticed. He could at least avoid the drama for a while. This was good, because he really wanted to enjoy Lockdown’s company for a while before having to deal with his possessiveness.

“Knockout told me you wanted to talk to me about some Autobot pest problems, by the way,” Lockdown changed the subject before he said something he’d regret.

“Ah, yes. Well, that will have to wait. We have more important things to worry about here on the ship for the time being. Meanwhile, why doesn’t your partner show you around the ship. You’ll need to know your way around if you’ll be staying for a while.”

“Good idea,” the bounty hunter nodded. “Thanks.”

“Come on, then,” Knockout chuckled, grasping his arm and pulling. “There’s a lot of ship and this planet has a very short day.”

Megatron watched the two leave, discussing some of the technical details of the ship’s bridge as they passed them. He shook his head. Knockout, having been in the Decepticons for millennia, had learned to address him and respect him as he should, as the mighty leader of the Decepticon army. Lockdown, not being tied to them outside of his bondmate, still didn’t treat him with such. He didn’t concern himself with it often, but if Lockdown was to stay aboard the ship he would have to learn respect.

 

()()()()()

 

“So,” Lockdown said absently as they walked down the hall. Eradicons skirted around the pair, knowing full well who Lockdown was and what he was capable of. None of them wanted to step wrong around him, even though he honestly didn’t care about them. “Whatever happened to Starscream? Megatron didn’t even mention him.”

“Starscream is unfortunately not a member of the Decepticons anymore,” Knockout answered. “He had a bit of a… falling out with our Lord. He’s on the wind now, no pun intended.”

“Ah, too bad. I liked him. He had very sexy legs.”

“Lockdown!” Knockout stopped his stride, hands on his hips.

“What?” the bounty hunter held his hands up in defense. “Try and tell me you didn’t think his legs were sexy!”

“That’s not the point! You’re not supposed to outright tell your bondmate you’ve been looking at other mechs’ _legs_!”

“Oh, you’re one to talk. And how many mechs have you ‘faced since we parted three millennia ago?”

“That’s beyond the point! I haven’t gone around telling you how good it was with them!”

“Fine, would it help if I said your legs are far sexier than his?”

“…A little. But not much. The damage has been done.”

Lockdown rolled his eyes. Knockout was such a drama queen.

Before long, their tour of the ship reached the medical bay. They’d covered almost everything else, from the bridge, to the intel rooms, to the engine room. “Of course, this is where I do my work. I spend most of my time in here repairing minor injuries the Eradicons insist are _excruciating_ , and pretending to do work while browsing the cybernet for new waxing techniques.”

Lockdown chuckled. “Sounds like you lead a rough life here.”

“Hey, I said while in _here_. I do have to go on field missions, you know. I’ve fought Autobots more times than I could count doing this job. Most of the time receiving major damage to my paint job while I was at it.”

“Aww, poor kid,” the bounty hunter teased, pulling Knockout towards him.

Instead of getting offended by the talking-down-to, he played along, pouting. “Those Autobots have no respect for aesthetics. One of them even ripped my _door_ off once.”

“The whole door?”

“Yes! It was embarrassing! Starscream was in charge at the time, and he was so angry that I’d disobeyed him he tried to scar me!”

Now Lockdown wasn’t faking it anymore. That one really did seethe him. “He _what_?!”

“Oh, don’t worry, he didn’t succeed,” Knockout pointed out. “The wound was superficial. Breakdown buffed it right…” he trailed off, looking away from his bondmate.

“Of course he did. Buffed you, did he? That all he did?” the bounty hunter growled.

His tone miffed the medic. It wasn’t something he didn’t do with countless other mechs. And Lockdown didn’t feel threatened by any of _them_. “No, in fact,” he said matter-of-factly. Challengingly. “He did a _lot_ more to me. And it felt great.”

“Knockout…”

“Every…”

“Kid, stop.”

“…single…”

“Kid, I said…”

“…thrust.”

“I said stop!” Lockdown grabbed Knockout and slammed him against the berth in the middle of the room.

Normally this would have ticked the medic off further. He hated pain of any kind. Except when it was his bondmate giving it. He loved his bounty hunter too much for his rough brand of interfacing to interfere with it. So the growl that left his throat wasn’t irritated, but instead lustful. “Make me…” he challenged. “Or do you like hearing about it? How it feels when he shoves his thick plug into my hot port- mmph!” he was cut off as Lockdown roughly covered his lip components with his own. He immediately surrendered himself to the larger mech and his strong chassis. He’d missed this so much, he needed to feel him again.

 

()()()()()

 

“Hey, you seen Knockout?” Breakdown asked a passing Eradicon. His mission he’d been sent on, a simple one he knew Megatron had given him for no other purpose than to keep him out of the way when Lockdown arrived, ended earlier than expected. He had considered avoiding Lockdown and Knockout when he got to the ship, but he figured it would be better to confront this straight on. After all, he never ran from a fight.

“I saw him and that bounty hunter wandering around the ship. I think they were heading to the med-bay, sir,” the Eradicon saluted him.

“Thanks.” Breakdown waved him off, wandering off toward the medical bay. What would he say when he got there? What would he do? He couldn’t just outright challenge Lockdown right there, especially in front of Knockout. Maybe he should be civil about it. Knockout would probably appreciate it if he at least pretended to be nice to his bondmate. Yeah, that sounded good. If he could get Lockdown alone at some point, then he’d confront him about who was more deserving of the medic’s affections.

He reached the door to the medical bay and was about to knock, when like weeks ago he was stopped by the sound of a voice. This time, though, was very different.

“A… ah… Lockd-down…”

“Ah, yeah… slaggit, kid…”

From the door he could hear the sounds of scraping and banging metal, and heavy venting. Moans emerged, ones he knew all too well as being the medic’s. He shouldn’t have been surprised or angry. After all, it’d been so long since they last had seen each other. It was only natural that this was the first real need they had to satisfy. But… but he hadn’t expected Knockout to sound like he was _enjoying_ it so much. He leaned against the wall, trying not to focus on the sounds of his partner’s pleasure, the moaning and cries. Not really knowing why he didn’t just walk away from this.

“Mmmm, yes…” Knockout moaned loudly, arching his back. Lockdown had one of his legs in the air, other one pinned under him. He thrust his plug rapidly into the medic, venting heavily.

It was true, Lockdown wasn’t innocent of indulging in the pleasures of other bots himself during their time apart. But he would never enjoy another both the same way he did Knockout. The medic was so beautiful, so perfect. He didn’t blame any other mechs who lusted after him. He was sexy, sultry, and he knew it and exploited it for everything he was worth. He craved pleasure. To be reassured constantly of the worth of his own chassis, that he is wanted in return. There was no way that new… _partner_ of his understood that, could completely fulfill this need.

Speaking of, he’d already become aware of the large mech outside the door. He knew it had to be Breakdown, the approximate size of the one there was within the range of Knockout’s fetishes. The only other he’d seen with the same range was Megatron, and but this mech wasn’t quite as large as the mighty leader. He didn’t mind the nuisance creeping around. He could just listen to how much Knockout loved this, loved _him_ , and then decide if crossing Lockdown was worth the sparkache.

“Please… Lockdown…” the moan returned Lockdown to the moment. Knockdown was grasping one of his arms, panting loudly. “I… I need it… please… it’s been so long…”

The bounty hunter knew what he meant. He wanted to sparkbond. They both did. It was part of the pleasure, an amplifier for it, for those willing to take it that far. And they were more than willing. He turned the smaller mech on his plug, drawing another moan, so they were face to face. He then pulled him up, continuing to thrust up into him as their mouths connected, glossas fighting for dominance. He heard the enticing sound of Knockout’s chestplate clicking open, exposing the pulsing light of his spark. The sight was beautiful. He never forgot what it looked like, how could he? But to see it again after so many years, it was enough to make him forget why he ever left. He opened his own spark to his bondmate and within seconds they reacted to each other, ebbing and flowing outwards towards each other as they pressed their chestplates together in hot need.

“Aa~aah…” Knockout’s helm tipped back as he sighed in satisfaction for the feeling, optics shuttering in pleasure. The plug inside him continued to erratically piston inside of him, touching and massaging every wire within his port to dizzying effect, but the feel of their bond was the most wonderful feeling in the universe. He always wanted someone to bottle this feeling and sell it, they’d make a fortune. The high alone was enough to make light explode before his closed optics. It brimmed throughout his core and brought him towards the brink of overload, no need to touch his own plug for the feel of both his bondmate’s plug and spark within him was enough to pleasure him fully.

Lockdown thrust desperately, needing to feel the shuddering tightness of his partner’s overload around his plug before he exploded himself. “Come on, kid…” he groaned into his audio receptor, holding him tightly. “Overload for me…”

“But…”

“Shh…” the bounty-bot assured him, knowing it’d been so long the medic felt as if the pleasure wasn’t enough, that they could do more. “We’ll have plenty of time for more… but I need you to overload for me…” To emphasize his point, he thrust harder up, causing a cry to escape his bondmate’s throat. He knew he couldn’t last much longer under this assault.

“L-Lockdown!” Knockout finally cried out, arching his back as his plug erupted with lubricant, covering them both. His spark exploded at the same time, flashing violently as he overloaded.

His port tightened around the plug inside him, spark sending shockwaves through his bondmate as he groaned and thrust violently a handful more times up into him before overloading himself. He filled every crevice of the medic’s port with his sticky lubricant, spark exploding with as much force as his partner’s, sending the shockwaves right back to him.

Finally, they collapsed on the berth, venting heavily. Lockdown reluctantly retracted his plug, lubricant spilling out after it from his partner’s port.

“I… I’ve missed… that…” Knockout panted, snuggling into him.

“Me, too,” Lockdown muttered, feeling satisfied and tired.

“…I love you…”

“I love you, too, kid.”

 

()()()()()

 

Breakdown made a frustrated sound, stalking down the hall to his quarters. As soon as the door slid closed, leaving him in the dark as he didn’t turn the light on, he growled loudly, slamming a fist on the wall. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he have brought himself to leave before they had finished? He stood out there like a… like a _stalker_ , listening to their intimacy. Seething with jealousy and rage.

_“…I love you…”_

How many times had he imagined the medic saying that to him? How many fantasies did he waste on him, only to find out that he couldn’t have him? No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to persist. He _would_ have the medibot, or offline trying.

But for now, his pelvic plating was uncomfortable and tight and he needed to release himself. So he stalked to his berth and sat on the edge, releasing his plating and allowing his plug to spring out. On nights when Knockout was occupied and wasn’t available to help him find release, he became used to pleasuring himself. He grasped his plug in his servos and began stroking. He conjured his favorite images into his processor, gorgeous illusions of his desirable medic. Of times he simply watched him, not knowing if he was being purposefully teasing or there were actually times he wasn’t aware when he was being sexy. Bending over a computer, sitting in his chair on the rare occasion when he sat backwards, legs spread around the back. He groaned as his plug pulsed at the images, lubricant leaking out. It was amazing that such simple thoughts, not even ones of them times they’d interfaced, could cause such a physical reaction from him.

Breakdown had never told him, because he felt it was so stupid, but his favorite form of ‘facing with the sultry sadist was when he sucked him off. Maybe it had something to do with the first time they’d interfaced.

 

_“I hate waiting.”_

_“Welcome to the Decepticons, dear Breakdown,” Knockout smirked. He was looking through a scanning device, watching the battle. He was to stand-by until they were given instruction to go out there. Until then, he was the backup field medic. Lord Megatron didn’t feel need to have him rush out and get himself scrapped when they were paying so much for his services. “50% of partnering with a medic is going to be very much not exciting.”_

_“Yeah, well…” Breakdown trailed off. He found himself staring, transfixed, by the sight in front of him. He couldn’t help it. Ever since he’d first seen the medic he had that effect on him. His perfectly curved, cherry red chassis. His lovely Elite speech patterns. The way he tended to stand with his hip jutting in some unnatural direction that emphasized the lines of his smooth frame. He licked his lip components. How could such a perfect creature exist in the universe? And how did he have the luck to be partnered up with him?_

_“Breakdown…”_

_“Huh?” he snapped out of it, already red faceplate tinting as he realized Knockout was looking at him, optic-ridge quirked._

_“You don’t know the meaning of ‘subtlety’, do you?”_

_“S-sorry…” Breakdown didn’t even deny that he was staring at him. He wasn’t good at lying, unlike those who were practically sparked to be Decepticons._

_Knockout sighed, rolling his optics and putting the scanner down. “Don’t apologize,” he said, striding over. He knelt down by the sitting traitor, a playful smile upon his lip components. “I believe the question you’re looking for is, ‘May I please ‘face you until you scream, Knockout?’ Or if you want to go the typical ‘Con route, replace ‘may I please’ with ‘I’m going to, whether you want to or not’.”_

_The red of Breakdown’s faceplate turned even brighter, optics wide. In the Autobots, if you desired somebot, you romanced them properly. Just… outright interfacing somebot? That couldn’t be considered proper, even among the Decepticons. “I don’t… I mean, I can’t… I mean…”_

_Knockout chuckled. “Such a sweet Autobot…” he purred, leaning forward and kissing Breakdown on the cheek. It wasn’t the first time he’d done such a thing, as he seemed to have a complete lack of understanding how boundaries worked, but this time he trailed the kiss down his neck and across his chestplate._

_“W-what are you doing?!” the soldier yelped, trying not to move. He wasn’t sure why the medic was doing this, or exactly what he was doing, but he… didn’t really want it to stop. The truth was he’d never had anyone in the Autobots. Could never find somebot he wanted to spend his lifecycle with. Now, though…_

_He gasped and jumped a bit as the glossa running across his chassis hit sensitive wires just above his pelvic plating. He didn’t know another bot could make his chassis feel so… good. He’d seen the holovids of bots interfacing, he’d pleasured himself more times than he could count. Until this moment, he thought he’d have to wait until long after the war was over to concentrate on finding somebot who could cause this kind of raw, heated reaction._

_“You’re so sensitive…” Knockout chuckled, licking around and across his pelvic plating. It was experienced and skilled, servos digging themselves into crevices Breakdown didn’t know existed. And every one of them flared and felt… wonderful. “My poor, dear Breakdown. Don’t tell me you’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing another’s touch?”_

_“I… well…” he strained, now feeling embarrassed at the same time._

_“It’s alright. I know Autobots are so… strict about their moral code. Don’t worry, I’m going to make it all better… after all, I am a professional…”_

_Breakdown just nodded as the glossa and servos continued their work. Suddenly, one of the servos worked its way into an opening in the joint between his pelvis and leg. His pelvic plating retracted and his plug sprang forth with enthusiasm._

_Knockout stopped what he was doing to stare at the masterpiece. “Oh, my…” he breathed out. “How is it you’ve never found somebot who… oh, it’s so lovely…” He wrapped the servos of one hand around the base of the plug, stroking it. Breakdown moaned and bucked his hips up encouragingly. In response, the medic leaned up and ran his glossa up the length of the long, thick appendage. He ran it around the tip tantalizingly, moaning as he took the tip into his mouth and sucked on it, his servos still stroking it. He bobbed his head up and down on the plug, each descent taking more into his mouth and eventually throat as he worked._

_Breakdown moaned and tilted his helm back against the wall. The feeling was intoxicating. His right servos rested on the medic’s helm, encouraging his descent. His left servos traced down his chassis, eliciting more pleasured noises from the mech working his plug. Every sound Knockout made reverberated through his throat and around his pulsing plug. The inside of his mouth and throat were hot and wet._

_Knockout sped up his bobbing, almost managing to get the entire plug in. This was an impressive feat, as he hadn’t attempted to do so with such a large plug before. Wet, sucking sounds mixed with his and Breakdown’s moans. He pushed his entire body back and forth with his enthusiasm, mostly encouraged by the fact that Breakdown’s left servos managed to find his aft and were managing to do a fine, if inexperienced, job of massaging it. If they lasted much longer like this, he may have let Breakdown ‘face his port. However, as things got hotter and heavier, his commlink suddenly activated._

_“Knockout, we have orders from Lord Megatron. You’re to deploy onto the field immediately. Medics 2 and 3 have gone down.”_

_Knockout pulled back and sighed, activating his commlink with one hand while the other continued to stroke Breakdown’s plug. “Fine. I will deploy immediately. Knockout, out.”_

_“You can’t be serious,” Breakdown groaned. Knockout wasn’t seriously thinking of running off into battle while he was… like_ this _, was he?_

_“Oh, don’t worry, you big sparkling. I’ll just have to finish quickly.”_

_Breakdown almost asked what that entailed. Then he found out. Knockout took the top half of his plug into his mouth and sucked hard on it, using one hand to roughly yet pleasurable stroke the bottom half of his plug while the other hand worked at those places on his pelvic plating he didn’t know existed before. He found himself vocalizing his pleasure quite suddenly, crying out as he grasped Knockout’s helm with both hands and tried to force his mouth further down on his plug. The medic, however, stayed resolutely upon the top half, sucking and licking desperately in unison with the hands pleasuring his plug and pelvis. It took only a few more kliks before he suddenly overloaded, yelling out as his plug exploded down Knockout’s gorgeous throat. The cherry red mech drank the entire load hungrily._

_When it finally stopped, he leaned back, panting. Lubricant dripped from his lip components as he licked them, using his servos to capture the last drops and lick them back off. “Not bad for your first time…” he chuckled, standing up as if nothing had happened. “I promise, though, the next time will be even better. You coming? I need someone to watch my aft.”_

_Breakdown nodded, catching his breath. After a moment, he stood up shakily and retracted his spent plug, replacing his pelvic plate. “Don’t worry. Watching your aft is_ definitely _something I can do.”_

 

Breakdown groaned loudly, pumping his plug rapidly as he overloaded. Lubricant sprayed across his chassis and hand, stroking slowing as he exploded.

Knockout had been right. The next time had definitely been better. And the time after that. And the time after that. And so on, and so forth. Centuries they spent like that, playing and rolling around with each other like curious, experimenting younglings. It couldn’t have all been for nothing. Knockout had to feel _something_ for him.

…Didn’t he?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumblebee proves you can curse without a voice, Megatron is unimpressed by Lockdown's behavior, Optimus worries, the Eradicons do something stupid, and Breakdown takes advantage of Knockout being angry at his bondmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! Autobots exist again! I told you I’d get them here eventually. Am I the only one who thinks Bumblebee’s too adorable in Prime? Cause I want to eat him with a spoon he’s so sweet. Also, since this is all from the bots’ point of views we can understand much of what he’s saying, except where it’s better to simply have him be all beepy. Sorry if that’s not how you like it but it made writing a lot easier, since I already have one silent character on the other side I have to make work without speaking.

Arcee sighed, looking around the dark, peaceful forest. Other than her and her two companions, there wasn’t a soul around that wasn’t fuzzy or feathered. This was a waste of time. They’d been searching for hours, but still couldn’t find whatever the sensors were picking up. “Anything?” she called over to the others.

“Nothing,” Bulkhead called back. Bumblebee beeped his negative. “Are we even sure there’s something out here?” the large green mech added.

Arcee rolled her optics, activating her commlink with the home base. “Ratchet, what are we looking for? We’re getting a big, fat nothing out here.”

“I don’t _know_ what you’re looking for,” Ratchet reiterated for what felt like the thousandth time. “All I can tell is that there’s a massive energon spike somewhere in that area. It’s been forming for a few days, so we can’t be completely sure what it is. It could just be an underground energon vein, or a piece of space debris, but something’s messing with the scanners. We can’t be too careful.”

“Can you at least tell me you’ve narrowed the search? At least a _little_?”

There was the sound of Ratchet grumbling as he was undoubtedly clicking at his monitor. “Try north of your position. That’s the best I can give you.”

The femme grunted. “Alright. We’ll head up there, but I just don’t see what good this is going to do.” She shut off the commlink and gestured north. “After you, gentlemechs!” she called to her fellow Autobots.

Moving through the thick forest wasn’t easy for the three bots. In order to disturb the undergrowth as little as possible, it was impossible for them to transform into their vehicle modes and just drive through it. Not that their large, metal pedes were fairing much better, but they figured that was less destructive than barreling through while leaving tire marks everywhere.

Arcee had the least trouble moving around, being the lithest of the group. She could easily dart around trees, over bushes, and through small openings, lasers poised for anything that may surprise them. Bumblebee was the most aware of his surroundings, trying the hardest not to hurt anything. Though he greatly preferred the cities and roadways, with their bright lights and bustling human populations, he was at least somewhat fond of the nature-filled rest of the planet. Bulkhead had the most trouble, being the largest. He didn’t pay as much attention, but at least tried not to take any trees down with him. He tripped and stumbled occasionally and Bumblebee would cringe at the sound of some plant-life and undoubtedly some poor animal’s home getting smashed underfoot.

They made their way north as silently as their large metal frames would allow them, trying not to alert anything that may be lying in wait for them. After almost half an hour of fumbling around and searching with no fruits to their labor, Bulkhead was the one who became frustrated this time.

“Ratchet, we’re finding jack-scrap out here!” he complained into the commlink. “Can we come back yet?”

“Alright, alright,” the medic sighed loudly at him. “If you’re going to be a sparkling about it, we’ll stop and give searching another try tomor-”

CLANG!

Bulkhead and Arcee both immediately turned to face the sound to see Bumblebee standing ahead of them, holding his helm and beeping out curses that could make their paintjob peel.

“What was that?” Ratchet asked.

Bumblebee calmed himself. _“There’s something right here! I ran right into it!”_ he beeped into the comm. He reached out and cautiously felt around in front of him. He almost jumped when his servos came into contact with something solid and metal. _“It’s cloaked!”_ he beeped excitedly.

The other two came up behind him, repeating his motion to feel for the large cloaked machine. “He’s right!” Arcee nodded, running her servos across the smooth surface. “I think… yes, I think it’s a ship! Could this be what the computer’s detecting?”

“If there’s a ship cloaked there, that could definitely explain the energon spike. Cloaking technology takes a lot of energon to pull off. The ship is probably radiating from the amount needed, and that wouldn’t usually be a problem back on Cybertron where those kinds of readings would be completely commonplace. However, on this planet energon leakage like that throws up warning signs. Whoever left that ship there likely doesn’t know that.”

“What should we do?” Bulkhead asked, knocking on the invisible frame. “Doesn’t sound like anyone’s home.”

“Stop that,” Arcee hissed, swatting his arm away. “What if whoever owns this ship is nearby? We don’t want to alert them that we found it, not until we know if they’re an Autobot or Decepticon.”

“Well then again, what should we be doing?” the large green mech persisted in annoyance.

_“Wait here?”_ Bumblebee suggested. _“They have to come back sometime, right?”_

“He’s right,” the femme nodded. “We’ll hide nearby and wait for whoever’s ship this is to come back.”

“I’ll alert Optimus to your find,” Ratchet informed them. “Don’t stay too long. If they don’t come back before it gets late I want you to return. We’ll set up a regular watch schedule, setting someone up to guard the cloaked ship in turns.”

“Got it.”

“Will do.”

_“Roger.”_

 

()()()()()

 

“The day approaches in which everything I’ve worked for will come to fruition. There is nothing that can stop me now, not Autobot or traitor. However, there will be complications if our work is interrupted.”

“And that’s where I come in.”

“Precisely. The Autobots have a habit of stumbling across the most inopportune operations I run, and I want to guarantee that will _not_ happen with the Space Bridge. All I need from you is to keep them occupied. Locate them and-”

Megatron was interrupted as a loud mechanical beeping emerged from the gadget attached to Lockdown’s hip. It was flashing and ringing annoyingly at them.

The bounty bot detached it from himself and held it up. He scrutinized the small screen on it for a moment, then grinned. “Looks like it won’t take much lookin’ to find them. Here, Chuckles, blow this up for me.” He tossed the device to Soundwave, who caught it silently and hooked it into the monitor behind him and Megatron.

On the screen appeared two mechs and a femme. The picture was at a downward angle towards them, and not very clear, but it was clear to the Decepticons present who it was.

“It’s those three Autobot flunkies of Prime’s,” Knockout said in surprise. “That’s the Death’s Head’s security feed. They found it already? It’s been less than a week.” When Lockdown gave him a look he added, “A week is seven solars in human time.”

“Learning human jargon? You’ve definitely been here too long.”

“Silence,” Megatron barked at them. Knockout immediately snapped his lip components shut. Lockdown looked far less intimidated, but quieted as well.

_“We’ll hide nearby and wait for whoever’s ship this is to come back,”_ the femme on screen was saying. After a pause in which it was apparent someone was speaking to them over commlink, she replied, _“Will do.”_

“At least they haven’t been able to get into the ship,” the sports car pointed out. “That’s definitely a plus. And they think they’ll ambush us if we turn up. We could use that to our advantage.”

“What’s all this ‘ _we’_ scrap, kid? If I go confront them while they’re there, I’m going alone.”

“Lock-!”

“No buts, kid. You’re a medic, not a soldier.” When Knockout opened his mouth to object again, he added, “Besides, I’m not going to attack them now. They can’t stay there forever. I’ll keep watch, wait for them to leave. Attacking all three like this wouldn’t be smart. They’ll be spread out to make sure no one can get the jump on them without the others having a good vantage point to assist when necessary. If I can get one or two of them alone, though, I’ll be able to take them out before reinforcements can arrive.”

Soundwave disconnected the device from the monitor and handed it back to Lockdown. Though no one could tell on his blank faceplate, he was impressed. He’d expected the Eradicons’ approach, attack with everything you have and hope you don’t get scrapped. Perhaps he’d worked with them far too long. But this neutral mech showed tactical knowledge he’d almost forgotten was still possible in those not of the higher ranks of the two sides. He could see that Megatron was fairly impressed himself and likely considering reinstating his offer to bring Lockdown into the ranks.

“I’ll keep an eye on this thing and see when they leave. When it happens, I’ll return to the Death’s Head and retrieve my equipment and set up a few… surprises for when they return. They don’t know that I know they found my ship. That’s my advantage.”

“You seem to have that well under control,” Megatron said approvingly. “Don’t get overconfident. We’ve lost a lot of soldiers to them. Which reminds me, I’m not sure if our medic has informed you yet, but you are _not_ to take out Optimus Prime. If by some force of will you manage to overpower him, you will bring him to me. He is mine to offline, and I will not have anyone forgetting that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss,” Lockdown grinned. He did a short mock-salute and turned to leave, even though he wasn’t excused. “Come on, kid. You can help me plan the traps.”

Knockout stood where he was, looking from his bondmate to the mighty leader, who looked far less impressed by the lack of respect he was once again being shown. “Knockout,” the Decepticon lord announced, “Being as you have become far more adept at it, teach your partner the proper line of respect to follow while in the presence of his superiors. You managed to train one mech into a proper Decepticon soldier. I’m sure you’ll be able to manage it again.”

Lockdown paused at the bridge exit, turning just enough that he didn’t have to look over his shoulder to stare down the Decepticon leader. “All due respect, _sir_ , I’m not a ‘Con soldier. Or a ‘Con for that matter.”

Megatron glared at him. The entire bridge had stopped what they were doing, staring at the scene. A pin drop could have been heard in the steely silence. Soundwave braced himself for anything. Knockout could feel the tension building and wanted to shrink away from the center of it, but was afraid to move.

“So I’m aware,” Megatron finally broke the silence. “However, this is my ship and you are working on my credit. I expect you to act as such.”

After another deafening silence, Lockdown replied, “My _apologies_ , my _lord_.” He emphasized it with bitterness. He chose to remain neutral so that he wouldn’t have to conform to such formalities. He didn’t like being forced into them. “Can I go now? Or do you wanna make your soldiers leak themselves more?”

Megatron’s glare deepened, but he finally turned his back to the neutral and his bondmate, snapping, “Go!”

Lockdown had never seen Knockout move so quickly in his lifecycle. He scrambled out, not even pausing at his partner who still stood at the door. He looked back at the Decepticon lord’s back one more time, glancing at Soundwave who shook his helm in warning at him. He shrugged, following his bondmate.

As soon as he caught up to Knockout, who had finally stopped half-running, half-speed-walking down the hall away from the bridge, he put a hand on his shoulder plate. “You alright…?”

“Are you fragging _nuts_?!” Knockout snapped at him, slapping the servos away and turning to glare at him. “Talking back to Lord Megatron like that, leaving without his permission, not even _silently given_ permission?!”

“Silently given?” the bounty hunter couldn’t help but snort at that. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he doesn’t have to tell you to leave, you just know he wants you to! It’s also far beyond the point!” the medic was all but screeching at him, Eradicons glancing at the scene then quickly moving on when they determined it would be poor for their health if they were caught staring. “You do _not_ disrespect Megatron! You’re lucky he didn’t scrap you right then and there!”

“He wouldn’t do that. He needs my help,” Lockdown waved it off.

Knockout opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then opened it again. When again no words would emerge, though from rage or frustration it was hard to tell, he made a frustrated sound and marched away from him. “Don’t follow me!” he snapped at Lockdown when his bondmate attempted to do just that. “Go watch your security and play with your toys!”

Lockdown rubbed the back of his neck, sighing loudly as he watched his cherry red medic angrily march off. He wasn’t sure what he was so angry about, but it couldn’t just be that he’d talked back to Megatron. After all, Knockout knew Lockdown didn’t consider anyone his ‘leader’ no matter how much they paid him, thus refused to treat anybot as such. The last few solars had been pure bliss. He watched Knockout work, they interfaced when he felt he couldn’t hold back anymore, sparkbonded whenever they could. It had been exhausting, but without any orders yet he had needed something to do. Now, out of nowhere, Knockout was yelling at him and telling him to leave him alone.

Whatever it was, he’d ask later. He had work to do now.

 

()()()

 

“So, where’s your bondmate?” Breakdown asked as the cherry red medic stormed into the repair bay. “I thought you two were welded together at the hip or something.”

Knockout glared at him, hands on his hips. He looked absolutely livid. “He’s taking care of his own business. What are _you_ doing in here?”

The soldier blinked in surprise at him. The uncalled for snap wasn’t what surprised him, as he long since learned that Decepticons can get snippy at the drop of a helm and he wasn’t innocent of bursts of inexplicable rage himself. Rather, it was the sudden change in atmosphere around him. Knockout and Lockdown had spent the better part of a week in complete bliss. He’d never seen the sports car so happy, and it had made him absolutely jealous. Every time he’d tried to convince himself he should spend some time with the two, if just to establish a false air of truce between him and the bounty hunter, he found he couldn’t do it because he’d see the two of them so close and together and knew if he stayed in the room with them too long he’d punch that smirk right off Lockdown’s faceplate. Yet now here the medic was, looking as if he wanted to do it himself. At least, he assumed it had to be Lockdown he was mad at. After all, why else would Knockout be here and his bondmate not? It absolutely couldn’t be wishful processing.

“I came by to see if you could stop in the training room. Some of the Eradicons got into a contest or something, and now at least six of them need some pretty big repairs,” he explained. “You weren’t in, so I thought I’d wait for you.”

“Why didn’t you just bring them here?” the medic huffed, walking over to his desk to get his repair kit.

“One or two of them somehow got welded to the floor,” Breakdown shrugged. When Knockout stopped and stared at him incredulously he held up his servos. “I have no idea what happened, I don’t want to know, I didn’t ask questions. All I know is they aren’t going to be moving from their spot anytime soon. We decided it would just be easier if the others stayed put as well.”

“Fine, whatever,” Knockout gestured for Breakdown to lead the way.

The blue truck hesitated a moment before taking stride beside him as they headed to the training room. This wasn’t like Knockout. He didn’t even bother to poke fun at the fact that the Eradicons had managed to do something so epically unintelligent.   Didn’t argue that he had better things to do than repairing a bunch of idiot soldiers. Just walked silently seething alongside his partner. He wanted to ask what was wrong, what had happened to make him so upset. But he was afraid if he so much as stalled the medic would turn and start slicing limbs off.

So they walked on in silence, the tension coming from the cherry red mech causing passing soldiers to veer around him, being careful not to get within five feet. When they were nearly there, Knockout finally huffed, “Lockdown is being an aft.”

“I kind of assumed that.”

It had slipped out, but Knockout didn’t look angry at the statement. He simply let out another huff and continued on without elaborating.

When they arrived at the training room, Knockout had to stare at the scene for a few moments. Two Eradicons’ legs seemed to have just… melted away into the floor. They were literally fused to it. Four others were missing limbs or had fairly large holes in their chassis. The rest of the group were laughing it up as the injured glared at them, not even stopping as the two higher-ups entered the room.

“Do I even want to _know_ what you were doing?”

The laughing Eradicons went silent at the question, and all members of the party looked sheepish. Well, as sheepish as their blank faceplates would allow. “He did it,” they all seemed to accuse at once, each pointing to a different Eradicon than the one next to them.

Knockout let in a breath, then vented it out in frustration. “I don’t care whose fault it is. Just… explain to me what you did to cause _that_ ,” he gestured to the two fused to the floor. “It will make my job a lot easier.”

While the soldiers frantically tried to explain what exactly happened to the irritated medic, Breakdown tuned them out. He still didn’t want to know, and he had the feeling he was better off if he didn’t. Instead, he watched his partner utilize his skills to detach the two from the floor. They were likely going to need new legs, but otherwise they’d be relatively okay. The ones already missing parts complained for a while, but a harsh glare from their repairer shut them up. The blue mech smirked. For being vain and more focused on brains than brawn, Knockout was probably one of the most intimidating members of the Decepticon forces. And no matter what he used to be, and what Lockdown insisted on being, that was what Breakdown would always see him as, a Decepticon. Fast and furious, sleek and dangerous, a nightmare for any Autobot to fight, even if he was half their size. Of course, if Knockout had been neutral when they’d met, then by Primus Breakdown would be neutral right now as well. As long as he got to be near him.

“Aaaaah!”

“Oh, stop whining, you big protoform! It was just a minor hydraulics line!”

“It felt like you were ripping my leg off!”

“Well, essentially, that’s precisely what I’m doing. Only I’m _trying_ to do it as surgically as possible so you don’t offline from energon loss. Your squirming is _not_ helping that.”

Breakdown smirked. The Decepticons didn’t fully appreciate what they had. They never did. Knockout had once commented that he was ‘better at breaking things than fixing them.’ It was much truer than most knew. Knockout was… traditionally violent. He didn’t fight with someone for the sake of fighting them, but rather when they did something to seriously tick him off. Most of the time that meant someone ruined his finish. Well, priorities. But when he decided he wanted to offline a bot, he didn’t do it by shooting them in the back or blowing them up (though Breakdown didn’t doubt he would likely enjoy watching somebot blow up). No, he made things personal, thus liked to exact his revenge in ways that would make most Decepticon generals cringe. He ruthlessly hacked at enemies, taking them apart piece by piece while they were still conscious, and enjoying every scream and reverberation of pain and agony.

When he was working, though, it was an entirely different matter. Despite what had happened when Breakdown returned with his optic torn out those weeks ago, Knockout was a professional when it came to repairs.

“OW! Son of a glitch!”

“Watch what you call me, or you’ll need a new set of arms as well!”

Well, professional was a relative term. The point was that as much as he enjoyed inflicting pain upon others, he could shove that to the side to get done what was needed. It was one of the things Breakdown admired about him. Why he needed someone to watch over him, even though he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. When he was doing his job he became completely dedicated to the work. That likely came from working as a bounty hunter for so long. The most important rule for a bounty bot to follow was to get the job done first, worry about collateral damage later. Sure he could be distracted by the slightest nick of his paintjob, but he figured that was mostly because he had a knack for getting things done even while infuriated.

“Oh, for the love of… Breakdown, go get my other repair kit. The big one. I didn’t think I’d need it, but…”

“Sure,” Breakdown nodded, turning to leave the room. Why Knockout didn’t think of the big kit when he heard ‘fused to the floor’ he didn’t know, but it probably had something to do with the state he was in.

One of the many things Breakdown had to learn to work with Knockout was that the medic had three ways to do repairs. Light repairs usually only required the tools he had stashed on his own chassis, most of them in his arms. He also used these to dismantle mechs, a task he liked the smaller tools for, since they did a slower job of it that he could savor. The repair kit he had was good for basic on-the-base repairs. It was mostly used to repair those damages made by the accidents that were common from working on an armed airship. Then there was the big repair kit. This was the kit Breakdown watched him carry onto active battlefields to reattach limbs and seal heavy hydraulic leakage quickly and efficiently while being shot at and at risk of being blown up at any second.

“Whoa!” The soldier ground to a halt as something appeared directly in front of him at the next corner as if materializing out of thin air. He tilted his helm up, something he didn’t typically have to do being so large, and looked straight into the sneering faceplate of Knockout’s bondmate.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the kid’s pet partner,” Lockdown scoffed. Though a full helm and a half taller than Breakdown, he was nowhere near the same bulk, thus gave the impression looking at the two next to each other of some kind of deformed, incomplete skeletal remains of a mech. The skull-like faceplate helped the image. “Been waitin’ to meet you.”

Breakdown folded his arms over his chestplate, giving his wide frame an even larger appearance. It was a plug-waving contest, he knew it, but he refused to be intimidated by the bounty bot. “I’ve been busy. Believe me, I’ve been just as anxious to get this out of the way as you.”

The large, black mech’s malicious grin widened. “Oh, have you? And what do you suppose ‘this’ is?”

“A warning,” the soldier didn’t even flinch. “He may’ve been yours before, but that was before you abandoned him three millennia ago. So do what Megatron asks then get the pit off this planet. I won’t let you slag things up for us.”

The smirk melted dangerously away into a glaring scowl. “I didn’t abandon anyone. He’s here on contract, one that seems to get extended at a nanoklik’s notice a few times too often. He doesn’t usually like to work hard, so I’m assuming he has a reason to agree to that every time.”

“Yeah, how does it feel to have one of those reasons standing in front of you?”

“You must think yourself so slagging special,” Lockdown’s faceplate came down a few inches away from his. “Kid gives you a little attention and you think you can replace me, huh? What makes you think you’ve got the brass to do what I’d spent millennia doing?”

“The fact that you’re the one he’s pissed at, not me, is a pretty good indicator. He doesn’t usually get huffy at somebot unless they scratched his finish. What the frag did you do to him?” Breakdown grinned while speaking, enjoying having some kind of upper hand on the large, intimidating bounty hunter.

“He’s just sore I embarrassed him in front of the big-bot,” Lockdown pulled back, though he didn’t look like he believed that. “Or something like that. I long since stopped trying to figure out his moods, they bounce around like a bullet penetrating a helm.”

“Maybe you just don’t listen to him enough.”

Lockdown glared again, scowl darkening. He didn’t like this mech’s attitude. “You don’t talk like any Decepticon I ever met. Must still have some of that Autobot programming hardwired into your systems. No wonder the kid likes you; he’s always found Autobot nobility amusing. But he’ll eventually get bored of you, and when that happens he’ll stop renewing the contract and come back to me. Don’t think this is the first time this ever happened. It’ll end the same way, too.”

Breakdown didn’t respond for a moment, processing that. Knockout had shown special interest in someone besides Lockdown before? He recovered quickly, though, and glared back. “Just finish your job and leave. The sooner you’re out of here, the sooner I can have him to myself again.”

Lockdown sneered and pushed past, making sure to shove Breakdown extra hard out of the way. The usually immovable Decepticon soldier lost his balance and hit the wall, catching himself before he could be further embarrassed. He glared behind him at the bounty hunter, but Lockdown wasn’t paying attention anymore. Obviously he felt he won that little pissing contest. Not for long, though. Eventually he’d have to leave, and when that happened Knockout’s attention would be jeopardized by Breakdown again. And he’d make sure Lockdown stayed slagging well aware of that.

 

()()()()()

 

“Guys, I don’t think anyone’s showing up,” Bulkhead complained over commlink with the two others.

Bumblebee, who’d been so bored he started counting the leaves in a nearby tree, beeped out his agreement.

“Alright, alright,” Arcee sighed. She checked her internal clock. It was long after midnight. They’d been there for hours. They were all low on energy and craving an Energon break. “We’ll keep this location in our GPS and go back to base. After resting we’ll talk to Optimus and Ratchet and set up a watch schedule.”

“Finally,” Bulkhead stood up, being careful not to disturb the brush. He activated his commlink to call Ratchet. “Hey, doc-bot. We’re ready to come back.”

“Alright, I’ll open up a ground-bridge.”

A few minutes later, the three Autobots were standing in the base again. Optimus Prime was waiting for them at the computer, scrutinizing some readings from the area they’d just left. When they approached, he turned to them. “Ratchet informed me that you discovered a cloaked ship, and we don’t know if it’s friend or foe.”

“That’s right,” Arcee nodded, crossing her arms and looking thoughtful. “Whoever it was who left it there must have business they’re taking care of, too, because we waited all day and night and they never showed up.”

_“If they’re Autobots, maybe they were captured,”_ Bumblebee suggested. _“It would explain why their ship’s been cloaked so long it’s radiating enough energon to be picked up.”_

“That’s very likely, but we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions,” Optimus nodded. “It could also just as easily be a trap. Nothing happened when you were waiting outside, but if you went in there are good odds if it were a Decepticon ship they would have set traps for us.”

“There’s just no way of knowing at this point,” Ratchet agreed. “Which is why I think watching the ship is a good idea. We should keep an eye on it for another week or so, and if they don’t come back for it by then we’ll try to figure out a way to get in. Whether Autobot or Decepticon, the answers to who they are reside inside that ship.”

“Agreed. But for now, we’re exhausted and low on energon. I say we have a snack and head off to the berth for some recharge,” Bulkhead said, already heading towards their energon supplies.

“Sounds good to me,” Arcee agreed, heading after him.

Bumblebee started to follow, but stopped for a second, glancing at Optimus. _“We’ll figure things out in the morning?”_ he inquired. He hated leaving things unfinished.

“Of course. Go energize yourself,” the Autobot leader nodded again, smiling and gesturing after the others. The yellow scout didn’t need to be told twice, taking off after them.

“I’m going to recharge as well,” the medic next to him stretched and rubbed the back of his helm. “Goodnight, Optimus.”

“Goodnight,” the red and blue mech waved him off, turning back to the computer. It bothered him, the entire situation. There was so much about it that felt like a trap. But Bumblebee was right; it was just as likely that it could be Autobots in danger. If that was the case, then a week of watching the ship could be the doom of them. However, if it were a Decepticon trap he worried for leaving them alone with the ship on their shifts. He knew it was only practical for them to do this individually, after all this was a forest with no life outside of the animals that lived there. Having two bots, no matter how well hidden, carried too much risk of discovery there.

He had to trust his team, though. They were all well trained and excellent at their jobs. Even Bumblebee, who had his rough spots over the course of the war, especially in the last few decades, was an exceptional scout for being so young. He was spirited, enthusiastic, always looking for something to do, some way to help. Wanted to prove himself, especially with his damaged voice box. _Did_ prove himself on numerous occasions. But Optimus couldn’t help but worry about him all the same, as the yellow car was a magnet for trouble. He knew how to take care of himself, sure, but during previous incidents he also proved that he didn’t always make the right decisions.

Optimus shook his head and shut down the computer. He was worrying too much again. He had a tendency towards that when it came to his own team. He should recharge as well. As he told Bumblebee, they’d figure everything out in the morning.

 

()()()()()

 

A platform seemed to materialize out of thin air in the middle of the forested area they’d been in not an hour ago. The lanky form of Lockdown strode up into his ship, knowing full well that the Autobots had already left the area. He’d done several scans, and made sure Soundwave had Ground Bridged him in a few miles away just to be safe. He couldn’t be careful enough when dealing with Autobots. They were a bunch of goody-two-pedes, but they were crafty, especially in groups. Didn’t fight dirty, but had a fierce loyalty that was dangerous in itself. He could relate to their need to protect their own, honestly. As a neutral, he didn’t feel ashamed to admit that he might have a couple of qualities in common with both sides. He felt the same protectiveness for Knockout, honestly. He always felt safe leaving him with the Decepticons despite it mostly because he knew Megatron would never squander a resource he was paying good credit for, and because even Decepticons weren’t dumb enough not to keep their best medic online.

He wandered around the Death’s Head, picking up items of interest that would help him on his job. He’d take some of his weapon attachments back to the Nemesis to prep them for work, and set up some cameras around the ship. He wasn’t dumb enough to simply leave general traps when from what he saw and heard from the Eradicons the Autobots had a pretty diverse, if small, group of soldiers. First he’d memorize their watch schedule and set things up revolving around that, a special something for whichever he deemed the most important to take out first.

From what he’d seen on his security footage, he already had a general idea what each of the three lackeys were like.

The large green one, Bulkhead, was his biggest concern power-wise. He was large, heavily armored, and according to the Decepticon forces on the Nemesis he was the most likely to play dirty and ruthless. However, he was hulking and slow, which was something Lockdown could easily turn to his advantage. After all, the bounty hunter himself was a lot faster than most bots would imagine.

Then there was the blue femme, Arcee. She was obviously the smartest of the three, likely extremely adaptive to difficult situations. According to the Eradicons she was extremely fast, flexible, and a skilled fighter both hand-to-hand and ranged. She’d be a problem if he didn’t come up with a way to subdue her quickly if it came down to it.

And then there was the little yellow scout, Bumblebee. It was hard to gauge him just by watching, but he seemed impatient and the entire time they were waiting around he was constantly trying to give himself something to do. Lockdown had to smirk. He reminded him a lot of a much younger Knockout. Always moving, looking for the next exciting thing.

He shook his helm. He couldn’t think that way. If he started comparing his targets to his bondmate… no. That was a road he’d pushed himself hard to never do. Lockdown was a professional; he’d take out anybot no matter who they were or who they reminded him of.

Still… perhaps it was best if he kept a closer eye on the scout. After all, he didn’t know anything about him yet outside his impatience and that he was fairly skilled himself in a fight, if not as much as the other two. This ought to get interesting.

 

()()()()()

 

“So…” Breakdown sat on the repair berth in Knockout’s office, for the first time since they’d become partners feeling awkward watching him finish up an incident report. If it weren’t for the fact that Soundwave absolutely insisted they write them for anything that involved either offlining or more than four bots they wouldn’t bother. But the only thing worse than being chastised by anybot in the entire armada (outside of Megatron himself) was to endure sitting there while Soundwave’s blank faceplate simply… stared at you. It was creepy, unnerving, and anyone who upset the security mech was forced to endure it.

Knockout didn’t even turn around. He simply kept tapping at his computer terminal, lip components still pressed together in a fine line. Other than snapping at the soldiers involved, he hadn’t said two words to Breakdown since he’d retrieved his medical kit. It made the blue mech nervous. The medic was rarely silent for so long. Breakdown stared at his back, feeling like a protoform whose creator was steamed at them but they didn’t know why. He knew Knockout was peeved at Lockdown, so he couldn’t tell what _he_ was being given the silent treatment for.

Finally, after a few more awkward minutes of typing, Knockout sent the report to Soundwave and pushed back, sighing loudly. “I hate those things…” he grumbled.

“I know, but what can you do?” Breakdown shrugged, keeping his response cautiously agreeable.

“Hmm,” Knockout hummed at him, running a hand over his faceplate. After a moment, he peeked between his servos at his partner and sighed, deflating. “Relax, I’m not mad at you,” he said as if reading the soldier’s mind.

“Was I that obvious?” Breakdown asked sheepishly.

The cherry red medic finally chuckled, the first smile since his fight with Lockdown breaking out on his faceplate. He stood up and sauntered over, hips swaying provocatively. He reached out and took Breakdown’s helm in his servos, straddling his waist and bringing their faceplates inches apart. “My dear Breakdown, I can read you like a datapad. You’re still such an Autobot.”

Breakdown grinned back, one hand grasping the sports car’s aft while the other reached behind his helm. “Shut up, you like it.” He pulled their lip components together. It was hungry and needy, as usually occurred with the medic; however there was something extra mixed in this time. Breakdown suspected it had something to do with Knockout’s tiff with his bondmate. He wasn’t sure how he could tell, but he couldn’t help but feel that the medic was suddenly seeking some kind of validation from this. Which was silly, really, as all he needed to feel wanted was to walk into a crowded room. The sultry car became the center of attention just by presence alone. There had to be something more he wanted. But what could someone like Knockout, someone so sexy and beautiful and talented, possibly feel insecure about?

Breakdown had made it a point to make sure Lockdown knew that he was different. That he was special, no other bot could rival his relationship with Knockout. However, what had he ever done to prove it? He did what every other mech did with the medic. They interfaced with him, seeking their own release. Sure, he always made sure Knockout felt pleasure with him, but he’d never truly focused exclusively on making sure the sports car got the attention he needed… no, the attention he _deserved_. Not like the medic himself, who in their first interfacial encounter alone had made sure Breakdown’s release was the only focus. He may not have seemed like it, but that alone proved him more selfless than any other Decepticon on that ship.

“Breakdown!” Knockout arched his back and pushed his aft back against the hand there massaging the back of his pelvic plating. He gasped and moaned, tilting his helm back accommodatingly as the soldier’s glossa ran down his neck and to his chestplate. He’d never seen his partner act in such a way before, and that was amazing after a couple of millennia of interfacing. One would thing after so long they’d have experienced everything each other had to offer. Yet Breakdown kept surprising him. “Whoa!” he yelped in surprise as Breakdown grasped both of his legs and lifted him up, all but throwing him onto his back on the berth. He laughed, not realizing what was going on. “Breakdown, I’ve never seen you so assertive… I like it…” he chuckled.

“Shhh,” the soldier shushed him, kissing his chestplate. “Just… let me do this.”

Knockout looked at him puzzled, but leaned back and let him do what he wanted. He wasn’t accustomed to relinquishing all control to another bot, but he trusted Breakdown more than he would openly admit. He sighed in pleasure as the glossa leaving wet trails across his chassis made its way down to his midsection, licking across his abdomen. It wasn’t uncharted territory, though rarely traversed. At least, until the hand massaging the inside of his thigh a moment ago ran across his pelvic plating. He gasped at the sensation, surprising himself. It wasn’t as if Breakdown had never touched him there before, with or without the plating. He just rarely did so when it wasn’t during a time in which he was getting corresponding pleasure in return, like most mechs. Even more surprising was when his glossa joined the servos, licking across his pelvis.

Breakdown wasn’t sure he was doing this right, but he didn’t stop. He simply felt he had to show his appreciation in a way he was certain no other mech in the Decepticon army was willing to do so. The appreciative noises escaping his partner’s lip components encouraged him as he ran his glossa up the inside of his thigh and into the crevices between his leg and pelvic plating. He encountered wires he was sure he knew were there but never thought about until this moment, the chassis under him shuddering as he made sure to lick at them. He wished he could find that seemingly magical set of wires that had caused his own plating to retract immediately every time Knockout did this himself. He knew Knockout recognized his plight when he retracted it himself, exposing his plug and port to him.

Now was the hard part. The medic had done this to him so many times he felt like it should have been easy, but it was so different being on the receiving end than this one. So he tentatively licked at the plug standing at attention before him. The reaction he received wasn’t anywhere near what he was expecting. He expected Knockout to be amused by his inexperience at this, at best to instruct him out of exasperation. Instead the medic moaned, though he tried to muffle the sound with his own servos. At first Breakdown thought he was teasing him. There was no way the extremely interfacially experienced mech could react so potently to such a simple gesture. Unless… Breakdown was doing this under the assumption that no _Decepticon_ had ever done such a thing for him. But, though it seemed crazy to think, was there a chance _no bot_ ever did this? That couldn’t be right; after all he was a neutral long before he was Decepticon, meaning he had experience with both sides. And what about Lockdown himself? He was his bondmate, which almost by law meant he had to have done this for him, right?

Instead of thinking further on it, Breakdown ran his glossa up the rest of the plug, taking the tip into his mouth and sucking on it. The chassis under him shuddered, though its wearer managed to control himself this time. So he took more of the throbbing appendage into his mouth, surprised by how little embarrassment he felt doing such a thing. After all, the gasp escaping his partner as he pressed his glossa against his plug was so sweet that he couldn’t be doing anything wrong. He sucked on it gently, by this point getting half the plug into his mouth, and Knockout moaned again. After a moment, a hand connected with the top of his helm, pushing him encouragingly further down this one-way road. If he continued from here, there was no way he could stop. And honestly, he didn’t plan to.

As Breakdown took the rest of his plug into his mouth and throat, Knockout couldn’t contain his outcry at the feeling. He felt embarrassed for the first time since he could remember during an interface. He couldn’t help it; he hadn’t been sucked off since long before he’d met Lockdown. The kinds of mechs whose company he indulged in after that weren’t the kind to worry about the pleasure of the young, sweet Elite they (by their accounts) seduced. They simply interfaced with him, whether in his aft or mouth, finished their business, and then was done with him. He was a tool, plain and simple. A tool for their pleasure, a tool for the Decepticon’s victory, even for Lockdown whom he knew loved him he was a tool for getting jobs done. He was the bait, an easy target to the scum of the universe. It was part of the reason he indulged in sadistic displays, to prove he wasn’t the helpless medic everyone thought he was. He’d managed to go beyond that in his time in the ‘Cons, became a feared force to be reckoned with in a fight. And yet…

And yet, before this moment, he felt like his efforts had been for nothing. Everything he’d done, all the work he’d put into his image and skills, and nothing had changed. To Lockdown, his beloved bondmate, he was still nothing but his helpless partner, still the ‘kid.’ He wouldn’t even give him a chance to prove himself, simply brushed him to the side. It was what had been bothering him all solar, what made him so testy. All he wanted was for someone to acknowledge that he was just as important as anyone else on this blasted ship, that he was more than just another medic fixing everyone else’s dumb mistakes.

In all of his self-pity and huffiness, he’d completely forgotten about Breakdown.

“Aaah!” Knockout’s servos clung desperately to Breakdown’s helm as the larger mech’s mouth moved up and down on his plug, licking and sucking it. He couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips in rhythm with it, panting loudly between moans. He’d forgotten how good it could feel for someone to focus on his need as a mech to have his plug so thoroughly and unconditionally pleasured.

As he continued sucking on his partner’s plug, Breakdown discovered it got a lot easier to figure out how to pleasure him in such a way. The act itself was hot, but it needed more to drive him absolutely crazy with pleasure. So he used his glossa in every way he could think of, servos wandering across his lower regions, pinching and massaging anything they could reach. Finally, two of his servos found their way to the medic’s port. It twitched and shuddered as if irritated that he was ignoring it. The two servos pushed against it and roughly entered, sliding in easily.

“B-Breakdown!” the medic cried out, helm hitting the berth with a clang. He squirmed and licked his lip components, sure he’d never felt this good in lifecycle, not even in the millennia he’d spent with Lockdown. He felt selfish, needy, and possessive all at once, something he’d never felt himself. He knew Lockdown felt it constantly, largely thanks to their bond, and suspected there were moments Breakdown did as well. But this was the first time he wanted so badly to claim someone, to hold him close and tell the universe no one else could even think of touching him. No… that wasn’t true. He’d felt the same way after they’d interfaced back when Breakdown came back from being held captive by M.E.C.H. He’d simply thought it was because they were partners, because he was already so far away from one he couldn’t bear to lose another. But now he wasn’t so sure.

Breakdown found a rhythm to work by and worked at both his plug and port at the same time, completely turned around from how they usually did it. Usually, his plug would be buried inside Knockout’s shuddering port while he jerked him off. This time, it was the medic’s plug which was inside of him, albeit his mouth and his servos worked over the port instead. He thrust his servos methodically inside of him, making sure to massage the sensitive wires inside of there thoroughly. His mouth sucked and licked at his plug, finding he was starting to enjoy this method of pleasuring his beautiful partner. He wouldn’t say he liked it as much as Knockout obviously enjoyed doing it, but he wouldn’t mind doing it again.

“Nnnnh, Breakdown, don’t stop…” Knockout managed to pant out, struggling to hold his thighs open so he didn’t clamp them down on his partner’s helm. It was a much harder feat than it would seem, optics rolling to the back of his own helm as he felt release welling up. “Yes… ah! Hah… I’m going to… uhn…!” He wanted nothing more than to overload down Breakdown’s throat, to see him swallow a load for the first time. But he wanted to hang on, to savor this for as long as possible. After all, odds were once it were over Breakdown would regret having done it and never indulge him again.

Breakdown, however, did everything he could to make sure it would happen. The servos not inside Knockout’s port were massaging his inner thigh and the joint between it and his pelvis. He sucked enthusiastically at his plug, quickening his pace with that and the servos ‘facing his port. He made sure to force those servos in as far as they would go, eliciting louder moans and gasps.

“Oh, Primus, Breakdown… AH!” Knockout finally couldn’t hold on anymore, arching his back and overloading hard.

Breakdown’s optics widened in surprise, finding swallowing a full load of lubricant a lot harder than the medic made it seem, and pulling back without thinking. The thick substance sprayed across his faceplate and chestplate, much of it finding its way to Knockout’s stomach as well. The medic was sure he’d never overloaded so much in his lifecycle, chassis racking with the force of the exploding load. After what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few kliks in reality, it finally subsided, the sports car all but collapsing on his back and venting heavily.

He lay there, panting while Breakdown wiped at the lubricant covering his faceplate embarrassedly. He wasn’t ashamed of what he’d done, but he felt like someone could walk in at any moment while he was covered in the sticky substance. After a while, Knockout finally recovered largely, heaving himself up into a sitting position to stare at his partner. He looked as if he’d never seen him before, as if this was the first time he’d ever noticed that the soldier was right there in front of him. He then smiled a very different one from what he usually showed. It wasn’t sarcastic, self-satisfying, or sadistic. It was instead… warm. Almost gentle. He reached out and ran his servos across the side of Breakdown’s faceplate, a gesture that would have seemed innocently affectionate if he didn’t pull them back with his own lubricant covering them and licked the milky substance off slowly. The truck felt his plug pulse at the sight, faceplate turning redder. Knockout then leaned forward, licking at that side of his faceplate until it was clean, then resting his own cheek upon it. His optics were shuddered and he looked peaceful.

“You’re such a sweetspark,” he whispered, leaning into Breakdown. It wasn’t seductive or teasing, but simply honest and affectionate. “The Decepticon army really will eat you up…”

“You’d never let them,” Breakdown wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight.

For a moment Knockout didn’t answer, and the soldier was afraid he’d said something wrong. But then he surprisingly answered. “You’re right. Because you’re my partner. And I don’t let others touch my things.”

_‘Funny,’_ Breakdown thought, a grin breaking out on his faceplate. _‘I was about to say the same slagging thing. So Lockdown better brace himself. I’ve got a whole new reason to fight.’_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout and Breakdown give completely bias explanations of Optimus's team to Lockdown, Soundwave joins the Unimpressed With Lockdown's Ego Club, humans exist, Megatron gives his Communications Officer the best possible test of loyalties, Bumblebee loses his patience, and Lockdown feels a familiarity with the scout.

“Okay, so give me a quick rundown. This is Arcee, right? What’s the story with her?”

“She’s got a long history of bad luck with partners. She lost two recently, in fact. One to Airachnid a while ago and another to Starscream just a while back.”

“He wouldn’t shut up about it while he was here, either.”

“That’s beyond the point, Breakdown.”

Lockdown, Knockout, and Breakdown sat in the medic’s office reviewing the three solars worth of footage the bounty hunter had yet caught of the Autobots guarding his ship. It was boring to the Decepticon soldier. Three solars of nothing fast-forwarded was still three solars of nothing. He came to the decision that he wasn’t going to leave the Bondmates alone, though. He was determined to keep Lockdown perfectly aware that he was there, and he wasn’t going away just because the bounty hunter was annoyed with his presence.

Knockout’s mood swings did another 180 and to an uninformed bot it would look as if he was never angry. However, the tension between him and his bondmate was still present, much to Breakdown’s pleasure. Lockdown was painfully aware of the fact that his medic was sitting just a few inches closer to Breakdown than him, legs crossed haughtily. His only hope was that the truck would get bored and leave already. Even if they didn’t engage in some make-up-interfacing, he at least wanted to spend a few cycles alone with the sports car again. Unlike Breakdown, the two experienced bounty hunters were quite used to sitting for megacycles doing nothing but watch surveillance footage. They planned traps and ambushes together more often than they could remember. It was one of those oddly romantic activities they shared. While he didn’t often participate in the ambushes that would usually follow, Knockout had an attention to detail that was almost erotic in itself.

“Anyway,” Knockout continued as they watched the high-speed footage of Arcee crouching in her spot. She was impressively patient, staying in the same spot for hours at a time, always tensed and ready for anything. “I’d say she’s the hardest to get the jump on. As you can tell she’s always tensed up for a fight. Her sensors are also open to every direction. Unlike most bots, you won’t be able to ambush her directly, even from behind. Sniping tactics would be ideal, but heavy foliage makes for a hard shot.”

“So she’s out of the question,” Lockdown nodded.

Breakdown looked between them. He was a great soldier and knew combat tactics back and forth, but he was thoroughly impressed. They could tell all that by watching hours of her crouching and waiting. This was a side of Knockout he’d never seen before.

Lockdown sped the tape up even more to where the green mech relieved her of duty. “Bulkhead, right?” he recalled.

“Yes, he’s the Autobots’ strongmech. He’d leave more than a few dents in your bumper if you went against him. Breakdown even has trouble.”

“Hey!”

“Truth hurts, my darling traitor.”

Breakdown huffed, glancing at the bounty hunter. Lockdown gave him a smug smirk back. Knockout gave no indication he’d noticed the exchange going on over his helm. Instead he simply continued as they watched Bulkhead look increasingly bored as they approached sundown. “Attacking from behind or above would be your best chance. Even then, though both are heavily armored and he’d only be distracted for a few moments. You’d have to move quickly to prevent him from smashing your helm in while he’s pissed.”

“You’re worried about me,” Lockdown smirked.

“Of course I am. If you offline, I’d be left to do all the work. And you know I hate working hard.”

“Such sentiment.”

“Only for you, love.”

Breakdown resisted the urge to gag theatrically.

Another few minutes of high-speed nothing and the last of the three entered the screen. The yellow scout seemed to appear from nowhere, exchanging words, or in his case beeps, with his larger companion. Lockdown already reviewed the tapes with sound. It was educational, at least involving the relationships shared between the teammates. Bulkhead and Arcee shared a soldier’s respect for each other. There were moments where he seemed to see something a little more, but it passed quickly. Both treated Bumblebee like some kind of younger brother, each in their own way. Arcee would berate him when he was late, or remind him at least three times to be quiet and stay low. Bulkhead, as seen on the screen at that moment, was more the fun older brother. He watched the yellow sports car take a boxing stance and dart left and right then take a jab at the larger mech’s bulky shoulder plate. Bulkhead responded by mock-punching him in the chestplate, to which Bumblebee dramatically grabbed the spot he’d been none-too-hard hit and lean against a tree as if mortally wounded. Bulkhead let out a laugh, slapping him on the back and heading off.

“Ugh, I think I’m going to go viral, that was so sweet,” Knockout complained, leaning on an elbow. “That little yellow pest is a nuisance. He thinks he’s some kind of gift to the racing gods or something.” Pot, kettle, kettle, pot.

“He’s only mad because he’s never won a race against him,” Breakdown pointed out.

“Breakdown!” Knockout gave him a shocked look.

“Truth hurts,” Breakdown did his best to mimic the medic’s voice.

“Anything actually pertinent to the subject you’d like to share?” Lockdown asked, exasperated.

“He’s good at both close-range and ranged fighting techniques, but not at the level of the others. His skills are mostly pertained to scouting, having both the speed and maneuverability for it.” The soldier was glad to have a place in this conversation, being as Knockout refused to admit Bumblebee had any skills worth mentioning. He still had a bitter rivalry with the scout.

“So he’d be my best bet. He doesn’t have anywhere to maneuver in this place,” Lockdown gestured to the mass of foliage covering the area. “If he’s the least proficient in combat, I can take him out with the least amount of trouble, and he won’t be able to escape easily through this forest.”

“Capturing him would be handy,” Breakdown suggested.

“I don’t want that little glitch anywhere near me,” Knockout scoffed.

“Then you don’t have to go near him. Just because I capture somebot, it doesn’t mean you have to personally interact with them. There are plenty of targets I’ve taken into custody you’ve never gone near,” the bounty bot muttered, watching the fast-forwarding activities of the young mech. He was more alert than Bulkhead, but still looked just as bored.

“Aren’t you supposed to simply put them out of commission, anyway?” the medic challenged. “Lord Megatron never said anything about capturing.”

“He didn’t say anything about not capturing, either.”

“I’m with Lockdown on this one,” Breakdown surprised both of them. “Bumblebee’s like their team pet, besides the three brats they keep around. If we get ahold of him we’ll have something to hang over their helms.”

Lockdown looked impressed. “Smart thinking. They won’t do anything that would risk their little scout, right? Autobots don’t endanger the lives of their teammates.”

Knockout looked between the two mechs on either side of him before sighing loudly. “Fine, but if this comes back to bite us in the afts I’m not even hesitating to say, ‘I told you so.’ I’m just glad to see you two getting buddy-buddy.”

What neither he nor Lockdown realized was that Breakdown had ulterior motives for this plan. If Lockdown was busy babysitting a hostage he wouldn’t have time to spend with Knockout, especially if the medic refused to go near said prisoner. He’ll have effectively monopolized his time and attention, going for a win.

“So how are you going to do it?” the medic continued. “There are only a few hours during the wee-morning hours when there’s no guard for a trap to be set, and you can’t know if he’ll be on the first watch.”

“I’m countin’ on him not being first watch. They’ve been trying to keep him last watch of the night because of his paint job. It’s too noticeable; they can’t afford him to be either first or mid. They’re trying to keep him covered by darkness, which is a smart tactic. I can respect their leader for his foresight. However, it’s also the only watch in which I have the advantage. All I have to do is wait for his watch to mostly pass since they likely check in at regular intervals. I want to catch him off-guard near the end of his watch, when he’s let his guard down the most. I want the only reason they miss him to be because he never returns. They won’t be expecting something to be happening so late, especially after solars of nothing.”

“Alright, but it still begs the question of how then.”

“Kid, you damage me. You don’t honestly think I haven’t been preparing for every scenario. All I have to do is get behind him without him getting suspicious. That’s what I brought my personal cloaker for.”

Knockout looked at him incredulously. “Lockdown, you promised you weren’t going to use that thing anymore. It’s not safe.”

“Why not?” Breakdown felt the need to ask. He hated being left out of the loop.

“The Death’s Head was found because of the energon radiation leaking from it because of the cloak, right?” Knockout asked patiently.

“Yeah?”

“That’s because it takes a lot of energon to be able to use it. Energon from the ship itself. This, by the way, is why you shouldn’t be leaving the ship cloaked that long, especially when they already discovered it. You’re wasting energon.”

“Please, I’ve got plenty of reserve hidden on the ship. And I have to keep it cloaked; they think it’s been abandoned. If it suddenly uncloaked they’d get suspicious.”

“Fine. Anyway, a personal cloaker runs on the energon from the bot using it themselves. Using it too long leads to energon deprivation. He found this out personally on a mission once. He collapsed in the middle of a fight in which he was using the cloaker to keep the advantage. I had to go in and save his aft.”

“Hey, I said thank you. In fact, I’m pretty sure I thanked you in a few ways you liked.”

Knockout rolled his optics. “The point is that you promised you wouldn’t use it anymore. You almost offlined from that. You’re just lucky I’m such a good medic.”

“I’m not gonna use it all day. I’ll hide out in the morning before first watch starts and stay low until the scout gets last shift. About a megacycle before his shift is over I’ll activate the cloaker, sneak up on him, knock him out, and take off with him. I’ll even uncloak the ship while I’m at it if it makes you feel any better,” Lockdown teased.

Knockout looked ready to say something nasty, but then looked thoughtful. “Actually, yes. I’d love it if you did. When Bumblebee turns out missing and they come to investigate, they’ll discover the ship uncloaked. And you… you should leave a nasty surprise for them. Something simple, not too drastic. I don’t want you damaging the ship, or them too badly for that matter. Just make it clear that you have the little glitch and mean business. While they’re focusing on that, Lord Megatron can finish his big plan for ultimate power or whatever without interruption.”

“I like it. I knew I loved you for a reason,” Lockdown stood up and kissed his bondmate, heading for the door. “I’m gonna need to borrow a couple’a things from the ship’s armory. I’m sure Megatron and Chuckles won’t mind.”

“Soundwave hates it when bots take things without-! Oh, forget it…” Knockout muttered as Lockdown ignored his objections, sauntering out the door and down the hall. “You know, there are times I think he works at making Megatron and Soundwave angry on purpose.”

“He’s a piece of work, alright,” Breakdown rolled his optics.

 

()()()()()

 

Soundwave turned away from the security terminal, heading off to inform his Lord and master of this turn of events. He’d have to remember to make sure Lockdown understood there were procedures to follow for taking things from the armory, inventory to consider. He hated when things were thrown out of order on the warship. Everything had a place. The armory was perfectly organized for easy access to whatever the army needed. They had plenty of back-stock on most of the weapons, but that was because there was a high turnover rate of both soldiers and weapons in the Decepticons. They had to be sure they wouldn’t run out of equipment, no matter how much of it was destroyed.

The intel officer was thoroughly impressed, however. He’d been aware that Knockout was far smarter than he ever let on. He was almost embarrassingly uninformed of how much so until this moment. The medic showed ability to plan and strategize that would be useful if Lord Megatron ever decided to exploit it. Why he’d hidden it until now, Soundwave couldn’t tell. Knockout was always a hard mech to read and predict. His shallow, vain personality often betrayed his violent and sadistic nature. His position as a medic clashed with his aptitude in battle, able to hold his own against most Autobots. Whether or not he could win was inconsequential, as that was what they had given Breakdown a job protecting him for.

Lockdown himself continued to both impress and disgust the communications officer. He showed a cold efficiency when it came to his job, and the idea to keep the Autobots busy by making them focus on a rescue mission instead of noticing what the Decepticons were up to may have seemed like a simple tactic but there was so much patience and strategizing involved that it became almost an art. There was a certain amount of respect to give somebot who could not only sit and watch something as menial as security footage of three days worth of sitting and waiting, but actually be able to analyze and gain something worthwhile from it. Soundwave himself was a living record of everything he witnessed and researched. He had millennia worth of nothing stored in his processor mixed with all of the most vital information his experience as a soldier and an intelligence officer had to offer, but never deleted anything because there was no such thing as a moment he couldn’t learn from and exploit. He was prepared to dispose of his own core processor in the slightest chance that it could fall into enemy servos, though. After all, if that happened the Autobots would have every bit of information they’d ever need to destroy the Decepticons once and for all.

Above all from observing them, Soundwave was beginning to think he was indeed simply being paranoid about Breakdown and Lockdown’s rivalry for the medic. So far nothing bad had come of it, and most of the drama was caused by Knockout himself. The intel officer couldn’t fully understand such petty drama. It seemed rather straightforward to him. Lockdown and Knockout were bondmates, thus already had some kind of connection that ran deep between them. However, Breakdown in contrast was nothing more than something to fill the hole left in Lockdown’s absence. While the bondmates were together Breakdown should respect them and let them have their time. After all, once Lockdown went back into space, which he undoubtedly would eventually do, Knockout would be all his again.

Huh. Lockdown. Breakdown. Soundwave appreciated the irony in the fact that the two closest mechs to Knockout shared a similar designation. And his men thought he had no sense of humor.

 

()()()()()

 

“It’s been four days, Prime!” Bulkhead complained as Arcee headed through the groundbridge for first watch again. She and Bulkhead generally shared the first two responsibilities, switching every day. “I don’t think anyone’s coming. I say we try to crack open that ship.”

“I understand your impatience, but…”

“But nothing, I’m sick of waiting. I don’t see _you_ out there boring yourself with nothing.”

Bumblebee and the kids watched the two arguing about it again, Ratchet resolutely ignoring the annoyance. “I don’t see why Bulkhead doesn’t give it a rest,” Jack sighed, leaning against the rail of their platform ‘living area.’ “Optimus has the right idea. You guys can’t just break into the ship, it could be a trap.”

The scout responded in an oddly sarcastic sounding pattern of beeps. “That’s because you _are_ impatient,” Raphael teased. “I’m surprised you’re not over there backing Bulkhead up.”

“ _I_ should be over there arguing with them!” Miko complained. “It’s not fair that they get to go and watch a cloaked alien ship in the middle of Nowhere-ia and I’m stuck here with math homework!”

“They’re just sitting around for hours, doing nothing,” Raph pointed out. “I don’t think you’d do well in those conditions. And didn’t your host parents say they’d ground you from your ‘extracurricular activities’ if you didn’t get your grades up?”

“Yeah, if you don’t get that math homework done, you won’t be seeing _any_ action for a long time, in person or from here,” Jack grinned.

“Oh, shut up,” Miko huffed. “They can’t keep me from here if they tried.”

“It would likely be a good idea to finish it. We don’t want to get you in trouble with your temporary family,” Prime pointed out, walking up.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be the same around here without you,” Bulkhead agreed.

“It’d definitely be quieter,” Jack muttered. Raph snickered.

“You both suck, you know that?” the Japanese girl informed her two other human companions. She then turned back to the bots. “Fine, but I want to go with Bulkhead on his recon mission today.”

“That’s a bad idea,” Ratchet called over, watching the monitor that showed the steady growth of energon radiation from the cloaked ship they’d discovered. Whoever’s ship it was, they’d been gone almost two weeks he’d guess from the amount of radiation he calculated. “This much energon radiation… we don’t know what it could do to human biology. From what I can tell the forest has been mostly undamaged, but it could be something that sets in later, after the radiation has worn off. It may not even affect plant life, but only humans. There are too many variables; we should keep the kids away from there as best as possible.”

“There, see?” Bulkhead gestured to the medic. “Straight from the Doc’s mouth.”

“Aww, man…” Miko pouted, laying her chin on the banister and sulking.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be here,” Raph offered. “I can help you finish your math homework and then we’ll play games until Bee has to drive me home. He has to get me there before his shift anyway, since his watches are so late.”

Bumblebee beeped at him worriedly.

“No, I don’t mind leaving early. Mom would get worried if I was here too late, anyway.”

“Don’t want to get caught out after bedtime,” Miko pinched the younger boy’s cheek.

“Stop it!” Raph snapped, rubbing the abused side of his face.

“Look, if nothing happens tonight can we break into the ship tomorrow?” Bulkhead finally returned to the original discussion. “If someone was gonna come back for it, they would have by now.”

“I still don’t like it,” Prime looked concerned. He looked to Bumblebee, who gave him a hopeful look. He could tell the scout didn’t like the idea of sitting around doing nothing for another day, either. “Alright. But I’m going with you when you do. It seems too convenient that the Decepticons haven’t come to investigate the energon signals themselves.”

“If they were going to attack, wouldn’t they have done it by now?” Miko asked.

“She has a point,” Jack agreed. “I mean, all three Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Arcee have been alone in that forest at regular intervals for four days now. If they were going to do something, why haven’t they yet?”

Bumblebee whirred his agreement, making another pointed pattern of sounds.

“We still can’t be sure it’s allies, yet, Bumblebee. When we investigate tomorrow, we’ll know for certain.”

The scout made a disappointed sound, but nodded.

 

()()()()()

 

“And you say he’s bringing the scout here?”

Soundwave nodded to his Lord Megatron. He waited as the leader looked thoughtful.

Megatron was admittedly a bit surprised by this news. After all, he wasn’t expecting a captive. However, he could see the reasoning behind it. If the Autobots were concentrated on a search-and-rescue mission there would be no reason for them to suspect that the Decepticons were up to something bigger. And he in a way owed Bumblebee his own life. If it wasn’t for the yellow bug he wouldn’t have survived his stasis lock. Perhaps a few words with the car were in order. “Have a temporary cell prepared. I’ll make sure he understands that he can’t keep the Autobot here for long, however. I will not risk any chance they can track him to our ship.”

Soundwave nodded again and waited to be excused. Unlike most soldiers and lieutenants among the army, he was never ‘silently’ excused. He always waited to be told. It was a part of his recording protocol. He needed it on record that he was informed they were done. This was why it came to him as a bit worrying when he stood for a few minutes more without being asked to continue on his business. He stood behind his lord’s left shoulder plate for a minute more before reaching out. He was almost afraid Megatron really had started losing his processor; that he’d forgotten his communications specialist was there.

Before his long servos even connected with the shoulder plate, his master’s hand grabbed his arm, yanking the startled officer in front of him and slamming him into the console before them. The entire room stopped, Eradicons seeming to consider whether or not they should help. Others still trying to decide _who_ they would help if expected to.

Soundwave himself simply stayed still, waiting. He would never strike Megatron, not even to defend himself. If there was a reason he was being mech-handled, he’d wait until he was either given an explanation or offlined.

“Out!” Megatron finally barked. He was looking at Soundwave still, but he wasn’t talking to him. The Eradicons knew it as well, and they reacted accordingly, scrambling out without needing to be told twice. As soon as they were alone, Megatron leaned forward, faceplate coming within inches of the black and purple mech against the computer. “They think I can’t hear them when they speak behind my back. That I have gone deaf as well as crazy. How about you, Soundwave? Do you think I’ve gone mad?”

Soundwave shook his helm slowly. It was an honest answer. While he for a moment had a fear of it, he came to realize that his lord hadn’t forgotten he was there for even a moment. He had instead been waiting for his reaction.

“Good. In the millennia I’ve ruled over the Decepticons, you’ve never once doubted me. You’ve been the most loyal mech in my armada since the beginning. Is there anything you would sell me out for? Anything in this universe worth more to you than your loyalty to me?”

Another shake of the helm.

“You are the only mech I can trust. You understand why I chose you, do you not?”

A nod this time. As soon as he did, clawed servos curled under his leg and lifted him to sit on the console, feeling the press of metal upon metal as his lord shifted so their chassis were connected. Long legs snaked around his leader’s, but that was the most he would do without being told. To Megatron he was the perfect bondmate. Completely submissive to him, would allow him to offline him if he so wished. However, unlike most bondmates he didn’t have to worry about his safety under any circumstances. Soundwave was more capable of defending himself against any threat than any other member of the Decepticon army. He had been a gladiator as well, though at the time he had been much larger, bulkier. It was long before Megatron had decided to claim his spark.

No, that didn’t happen until Earth. When their chassis had adjusted to their new Earthen alt forms. Soundwave’s metallic frame had changed drastically in size, becoming sleek and sharp. Most still looked upon him and feared his wrath. His blank faceplate and lack of vocals unnerved those who endured his presence for long periods of time. The high peak of his shoulder plate and long, thin servos combined with the sharp points decorating his frame made him look to most like the walking twisted skeletal remains of a mech. To Megatron, however, he had become perfect. There were dozens of bots like the naturally sleek Starscream, whose chassis was practically manufactured to bend and break under the whim of whatever master he served. However, there was only one Soundwave.

Though no sound was created to express his pleasure, none was needed for Megatron to know the effect his plug had on the twitching and shuddering mech pinned against the computer console. The long, skeletal servos gripped the edge of the console and his chassis jolted with every violent thrust. Megatron held his thin yet strong legs spread, leaning forward and running his glossa across the wires of his neck. He could feel the pleasure reverberating through the lanky frame under him.

Soundwave’s plug dripped onto his stomach, interfacing with Megatron was so pleasurable. Before they’d become bondmates he’d never even thought of it, simply functioned to assist him in his duties as the Lord of the Decepticons. Once they became bondmates, however, he didn’t know how he’d ever functioned without it. He wasn’t sure if this was going to be one of his lord’s spark-bonding moments, or if he simply needed to get the interfacial tension out. Whichever it was, he would accommodate him. After all, that was what he existed for now. To attend to his Lord Megatron’s _every_ need.

 

()()()()()

 

“I’m sending Bumblebee in. You ready to switch, Bulkhead?”

“I’ve been ready for hours,” the large green mech muttered. He looked behind him and ran another scan while he waited for the scout. He kept feeling like someone was watching him. However, every scan showed no trace of anyone other than the fuzzy forest creatures that gave him a wide berth. He must’ve been getting paranoid from the silence.

_“Bulkhead!”_

The former Wrecker was pulled away from his scan by the approach of the mech relieving him of his duties as he approached. They ground-bridged in fairly close to their hiding place, allowing for a speedy switch. “Hey, kiddo. You ready for your last guard-duty before we get to break that thing open tomorrow?”

Bumblebee nodded enthusiastically. The more he thought about it, the more excited and nervous he became at the same time. He talked about it the entire way home with Rafael. While his human companion expressed suspicion about the fact that no one had come back to claim the ship yet, the scout still argued that there was at least a chance it belonged to allies. He didn’t know why he wanted so badly for it to be true. Maybe he wanted to know what it felt like for Bulkhead when Wheeljack had returned. To meet another Autobot _he_ had once known.

“Alright, Bee. I’m off, have a fun five hours of nothing,” Bulkhead slapped him on the shoulder plate and headed off. “Tell me if you see anything interesting.”

_“Yeah, yeah,”_ the scout rolled his optics, punching the passing soldier in the arm. He waited for the other mech to be gone and stretched, sitting down in the dirt and venting loudly. This was going to be a long night.

 

()()()

 

Lockdown watched the scout from his strategic point, finding himself chuckling. He couldn’t help it, Bumblebee was oddly amusing to observe when he was bored. He was fidgety and couldn’t sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. He tried laying on his back to prevent himself from doing so, but then he’d just end up rolling around. He was making an awful lot of noise for somebot who was supposed to have been a scout for millennia. Of course, he was probably used to scouting missions that either involved watching actual bots, or constantly moving to keep from being caught.

The bounty hunter checked his internal clock. It’d been three Earth hours since the little yellow sports car came onto his shift. An hour more and he’d make his…

Wait, what was the scout doing?

Lockdown watched as Bumblebee suddenly sat up, looking around as if expecting someone to catch him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Which was apparently _exactly_ what he was doing, as he got to his pedes and started sneaking towards the Death’s Head. This was _not_ in the bounty bot’s plan. He felt like he should have stopped him, gone down and immediately set upon him and captured him early. But… no, he was curious. Curious that _he_ was curious. He wanted to see what the yellow mech was going to do. So he left his hiding place and activated his personal cloaker, going down to watch in person. After all, if something happened and Bumblebee called in reinforcements, the whole plan would go up in smoke.

 

()()()

 

Bumblebee couldn’t help it. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping around the cloaked ship, but… he just couldn’t wait until the next day. His curiosity was getting the best of him, and he knew that was dangerous. It wouldn’t hurt to at least make sure it was still there, though, right? They had no proof as none of them had gone near it since that first day. The only proof were some expanding readings, and those could be faked. So he approached where the ship was supposed to be slowly, servos extended. After a few more feet, they finally came into contact with cold metal. It was smooth, mostly. There were a few scratches in the small space he was feeling around, suggesting it’d seen battle, or at least some rough landings.

_“No, I’m not supposed to be here,”_ he reminded, scolding himself. _“Optimus would be angry if he knew I was going near it. I need to return to my post.”_

Hearing himself reason with his curiosity helped settle it a bit and he backed away from the ship, turning to return to his position.

_Ka-chunk!_

He stopped cold as the sound reverberated through the quiet forest, along with the whirring of something motorized behind him. He turned back towards the ship again and started. There was a platform opening, lowering. He looked around quickly, prepping the laser hidden on his arm. He didn’t do that… did he? This reeked of a trap. He wasn’t stupid.

_“Ratchet?”_ he called on his commlink, keeping his optics peeled. There was no response. _“Optimus? Ratchet? …anyone?”_ he tried again. The same results were gained, though. Something was jamming the signal. He couldn’t reach anyone over the link.

That was extremely worrying. But not as much as the haunting chuckle that suddenly reached his audio receptors. _“Who’s there?!”_ he demanded, taking a step back. He was alone in the dark with an unknown. _“Are you a Decepticon?”_

“No.”

Bumblebee jumped. Why did that sound so close? No one was there.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you wanna see my ship?” The voice was deep and gravelly. Being as whoever was speaking could understand him, Bumblebee at least could confirm it was definitely Cybertronian.

_“Who are you?”_

“Someone very curious about you. You and your friends have been hanging around my ship for days.”

Bumblebee faltered. He knew? Whoever this is had been watching them for _days_? Had he been there the entire time? Why hadn’t he made himself known? _“This is your ship?”_

“Yep.”

Bumblebee jumped. That came from right behind him. He turned quickly but no one was there. What was going on?

“She’s a beauty when she’s not cloaked. Wanna see her?”

_“S-sure…”_ the sports car said warily. That time it was on his other side. It wasn’t as if he’d never been afraid before, there were a lot of things that scared him. Decepticons themselves were frightening, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight them. He’d scrapped his fair share of them. But this… this didn’t seem like any Decepticon. He didn’t even know what it was, being as he couldn’t see it.

There was the sound of a button being pressed and around the entrance to the ship the rest of it materialized. It wasn’t a very large ship, red and dingy, peeling paint in a few places. Like he’d felt, it was covered in battle scars. He wasn’t sure what the definition of ‘beauty’ was to the mech talking to him, but that wasn’t the first word that came to mind when he saw the ship.

“Wanna see the inside?”

_“No, I think I’m…”_

Bumblebee made a startled beep as the arm with his laser seemed to move of its own volition, pointing upwards. He lashed out with his other arm, but that one was caught as well and roughly twisted behind his back. The hand holding that arm made sure to cover where his blaster would pop out, pinning it in place. He started making loud panicked beeping noises, kicking back and connecting with what was probably a leg. It made a satisfying clang followed by a sharp curse.

“You know, for someone so small you’re quite the fighter.”

_“Let me go!”_ the scout insisted, kicking back again. However, this time he didn’t connect with anything and he instead pulled forward, planting both pedes in the dirt and leaning as hard as he could. _“Let me- whoa!”_ His wish was suddenly granted, and he found himself flying forwards as whoever was holding him let go. He stumbled and almost fell, but regained his balance and turned quickly, readying his blasters on both arms this time. Or, at least he tried. He discovered that something was wrapped around his arms, though, holding them in place. He would have to rely on his fists if it came down to a fight. He considered running, but he’d have an even bigger disadvantage. There was no way to transform in the forest, and the invisible opponent would be able to spring from anywhere if he was fast enough. Then he’d have even less room to maneuver.

“You really still thinking of fighting me, kid? I think it’s been pretty well established that I have the advantage here. A smart bot would just do as they were told to make sure I don’t scrap them.”

_“I thought you said you weren’t a Decepticon!”_ Bumblebee challenged.

“I’m not.”

_“Then why are you doing this?”_ He was only further confused by this news.

“Well, look at it this way. You’re the one sneaking around _my_ ship, attempting to point a blaster at me when I haven’t done anything wrong to your knowledge. You’d be rather defensive, too.”

Bumblebee stopped, lowering his fists. That made a lot of sense. He _was_ the intruder here. _“Why won’t you at least show yourself?”_ he asked warily.

“Tell you what. You stop tryin’ to offline me, I’ll stop hiding. That sound like a deal?”

The scout seemed to consider this for a moment before straightening. He put a hand out, though he didn’t actually know where this other bot was. _“Deal.”_ He nearly jumped out of his chassis when a hand connected with his, shaking it. He then watched as a mech nearly twice his size materialized in front of him, still holding his servos. He was dark green and black, mismatched in a couple of places. His faceplate was white and skull-shaped with black patterns painted across it. Spikes protruded from several parts of him, including his neck and where his arms were connected to his chestplate. Bumblebee was so taken off guard by the sight of him that his immediate reaction was to try and escape, pulling away.

“Now, now, kid, don’t panic,” the deep voice rumbled, the huge mech still holding onto his hand. “I’m not a Decepticon, like I told you. See? No sigil.”

Bumblebee looked to his chestplate and discovered that indeed there was no sigil there. Not even a patch to cover one. He stopped struggling but still looked suspicious. When it was apparent he wasn’t going to dash, the other mech released his servos and Bumblebee set to work circling the strange mech, scrutinizing him for a sigil. No Decepticon, no Autobot, just a mostly blank chassis apart from the details.

_“What’s your designation?”_ he asked.

“Lockdown.”

Bumblebee felt like that name should have been familiar to him, like he’d heard it somewhere before. But he couldn’t seem to access a memory of it, so he shrugged it off and nodded. _“I’m Bumblebee. What are you doing hiding in the middle of nowhere here on Earth?”_

“Tell you what, kiddo. Come on in my ship and I’ll tell you all about it.”

 

()()()

 

Lockdown couldn’t believe his luck. He didn’t know what had possessed him to lead the kid around like this, but he hadn’t had that much fun in centuries. When he’d revealed himself, he’d been fully prepared to receive the usual ‘Holy scrap it’s Lockdown’ and then knock the kid out after getting his enjoyment of the reaction. However, the reaction hadn’t been recognition, but rather surprise. After sharing his designation, which he also prepared himself to have to retaliate afterwards for, his suspicions were confirmed. Bumblebee had no idea who he was. He maybe had heard some stories, but he was young enough and far enough from the front line to really have encountered anything. He was too goody-goody of a bot to hang out in the kind of places Lockdown usually caught his prey in, and not enough of a nuisance to be in danger of having a hit on his helm.

He checked his internal clock again. It was perfect. They still had an hour until he would be expected back, and the scout was so curiously looking around his ship he’d completely forgotten about the jammed signal of his commlink anyway. He leaned on an elbow and grinned as he watched the sports car flit back and forth around, looking at devices and trophies from his hunts, beeping endlessly as he seemed fit to recount almost everything that had happened to him since he himself had arrived on Earth. He was careful enough not to share any details which would compromise his team, but everything else seemed to be fair game. He’d only asked a few questions about what Lockdown was doing there, which he discovered he could answer honestly without giving away his full intentions.

Bumblebee had asked what he was doing there, and he told him he was a bounty hunter and had been given a job. When asked who he was after, he told him he could say or it would compromise his mission. Yes, he’d encountered the Decepticons, but no they hadn’t given him too much trouble since he was neutral and they generally didn’t bother with such bots.

_“Earth culture itself is really fun and interesting. They’ve got all kinds of things like video games and music. Have you seen any humans yet?”_ he continued on, looking at a very, _very_ big looking gun from one of the shelves.

“Nah, I try to stay far away from planetary natives.”

_“That’s probably for the best. They generally don’t know about us either. Just Agent Fowler and the kids. What does this do?”_

Lockdown stood up and walked over. He took the large weapon from the scout and aimed it over his shoulder. He wasn’t actually going to pull the trigger, but he was demonstrating how it worked. “This is a sonic cannon. Squeeze the trigger and it causes a pulse of sound so powerful it could shatter anything glass in a fifty foot radius, knock back anything in its blasting path, and give everyone around it a pretty decent processor-ache.”

_“You have a lot of weapons in here. We don’t keep too many loose weapons, just what we store in our chassis.”_ Bumblebee emphasized by releasing the lasers in his arms again. Lockdown had been kind enough to remove the inhibitors from them when they’d made nice.

“Good policy for a small squad. Less stuff to move around if you need to relocate.” Lockdown put the cannon back on the shelf, glancing at Bumblebee. The scout had moved on to some of the other smaller weapons, picking up each one and testing them for weight and ease of use. He chuckled.

_“What?”_ the little yellow mech put down what he was holding and glanced over.

“Oh, nothin’. You just remind me of someone. My bondmate, back when he was your age.”

_“Really? You have a bondmate?”_

“Yep. Don’t get to see him too often cause of my job, but he’s everything to me. He’s changed a lot over the millennia, but back when I first met him he was like you. Always moving, looking at everything he could find, always talking.” He frowned thinking of Knockout as he was now. He still loved him, he always would no matter what he became, but he missed the Knockout he first met. “How about you? You got a bondmate? At least somebot you’d like to be?”

Bumblebee’s faceplate tinted red right under his wide blue optics. _“I haven’t really thought of anything like that. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent time with anybot who wasn’t in my team, and they’re like family to me. It’d be like bonding with my brothers or sister. Before them I was too young to know what bonding with somebot really meant.”_

“Probably for the best. I might have felt bad.”

_“About me having a bondmate?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Why?”_

“Cause of this.” Without further warning, Lockdown removed a small device from the table, tossing it at him. Bumblebee caught it without thinking, still looking confused. After a moment it went off, sending shockwaves of energy through him until his systems shut down in defense. He went into stasis lock, collapsing forward, the device falling to the floor from his servos. Lockdown caught him as he fell down, sighing. “Slag it all, why did I still feel bad for doing that? You’re a dangerous target, kiddo.” He picked the device off his hip that controlled the ship and deactivated the signal jammer. He activated his own commlink. “Hey, Chuckles, you there? I need a bridge back.”

In answer the blue glow of a groundbridge appeared outside of his ship. He headed down it carrying his prey. He wasn’t worried about the weapons in the ship. They had safety triggers on them to make sure that if anyone besides him or Knockout tried to use them they’d get a nasty surprise. Once the kid was secure in his little temporary accommodations on the Nemesis, he’d plan out what to do to keep the Autobots paying attention to him and not Megatron. They were apparently approaching the big day, and he couldn’t screw this up. If the Decepticon leader achieved his goals he wouldn’t need Knockout anymore, and he could put in a retraction of contractual duties and have his bondmate back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soundwave muses on his job, Bumblebee gets two unwelcome guests during his first day of captivity, the Autobots make a discovery, and Knockout starts to tell a story to Breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... there's no interfacing in this. I came to that realization after I finished the chapter, lol. Hopefully that's not too disappointing.

Being Megatron’s security officer was a constant battle. Soundwave was always monitoring everything that took place on the ship. Eradicons were busily bustling around, doing their jobs. Occasionally they slacked off, but it wouldn’t take long before they realized they were being watched and returned to work. Airachnid was in the training room, working at the deadly melee fighting she was famed for. Knockout and Breakdown walked down the hall towards the bridge, discussing. Well, Knockout was talking non-stop. Breakdown trailed him, amazingly seeming to hang onto every word. Soundwave almost marveled at the level of dedication Breakdown had for the medic. He knew the truck didn’t really care about Megatron’s plans, probably didn’t even believe in what they were doing. But that didn’t matter as long as he continued to serve. And as long as Knockout was there, Breakdown would stay.

Megatron was on the bridge, speaking to some of his men. With the day of reckoning around the corner he was taking every precaution he could.

“Lord Megatron,” Knockout’s vocals intruded upon the meeting. The Decepticon leader stopped and glanced up. “Breakdown and I are retiring for the night. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t need for us before we did.”

Megatron waved him off. “Nothing is required of you. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Knockout bowed theatrically and turned to leave. Breakdown nodded to their leader as well and followed suit. As soon as they were out of the room again Knockout continued his prattling.

Soundwave knew the only reason Knockout was checking in was because he was trying to stay on their Lord’s good side. After all, even the lowliest peon could tell Megatron was becoming less amused by his bondmate. Speaking of which, Soundwave turned his attention to another video feed. The bounty hunter had deposited the Autobot scout he’d captured into one of the cells in the prison block of the Nemesis. He now stood outside of the cell, just watching. It was odd behavior, making Soundwave curious. Lockdown hadn’t moved for three Earth hours since the scout had been locked in the cell. The communications officer wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. He glanced at the video feed Lockdown gave him access to from the Death’s Head’s security. No one there yet, but it wouldn’t take long before the Autobots came to investigate the missing scout. It was amazing how quickly Lockdown not only adjusted his plans for any contingency but adapted to the changes almost instantaneously.

The security officer’s optics swept over the monitors again. Indeed, it wasn’t easy to have his job, but someone had to do it. And he’d rather it be no one else.

 

()()()

 

Bumblebee’s optics were fuzzy when he onlined them. What hit him? It felt like a spaceship did. A class-3 warship, to be exact. He didn’t know how he knew what that felt like.

Last he remembered he was with the neutral on his ship. Lockdown.

_Lockdown!_

The yellow sports car bolted up, his processor screaming at him for the sudden movement.

“Welcome to reality, kid.”

Bumblebee looked to the voice. He was in a dark cell, a force field separating him and the bounty hunter leaning on the wall outside of it. It was a good thing, too, because he was angry enough to punch him. _“You!”_ he beeped.

“Yeah. Me.” Lockdown said it so smoothly that it just made the scout angrier. “I have to tell you, I’m surprised at you. Didn’t your creators ever tell you not to trust strange bots?”

_“You said you weren’t a Decepticon!”_

“I’m not.”

_“Then why-?”_

“Because they’re the ones who hired me.”

At that Bumblebee stopped. Of course. That was why Lockdown wouldn’t talk about his job or who hired him. Because he was working for the Autobots’ worst enemies. He felt so stupid for not seeing that. He’d wanted so badly to believe that they finally had an ally land on the planet instead of an enemy that he’d let it blind him. Since when did he let himself get this sloppy?

“From what I heard about you I thought you’d be a lot harder to catch than you were.”

Bumblebee seethed at his tone. It was so casual that it was almost mocking. _“You tricked me. It was luck. When I get out of here, though, it won’t hold out.”_

The bounty hunter let out a laugh. “When you get out of here. That’s funny. Where do you think you are?”

The sports car cringed. He didn’t need to guess. Lockdown was working for Megatron, that meant there was only one place he could be. _“The Nemesis.”_ He shuddered as he said it. He didn’t have good memories of the other times he was here.

“That’s right,” the muscle car grinned. “Not for long, though. We’re gonna move you somewhere else as soon as we find somewhere suitable. See, Megatron needs you and your friends outta his way for a while. And once whatever grand, diabolical scheme he’s cooking up is done he won’t care what happens to you anymore. At that point you better _hope_ he asks me to eliminate you. Cause I’ll be nice about it. Him? Probably not.”

Bumblebee cursed at him, standing up. The whirring sounds leaving his damaged vocals were sharp and threatening. He’d been disarmed, of course. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make some nasty threats.

“Easy there, kid,” Lockdown chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. “You can be pissed at me all you want, but that’s not gonna help anything. You wanna get back at me for playing up to your stupid move? Fine. But be smart about it. You’re on a ship crawling with Decepticon forces and your team isn’t going to be finding you anytime soon. Do anything stupid and we’ll be revising our plans _without_ you in them.”

Bumblebee seethed but didn’t say anymore. He knew the black and green mech was right. He had to wait it out. So he sat back down and watched the bounty hunter leave, trying to think of any way at all he could give the Autobots a hint of his location.

 

()()()()()

 

“Be careful going in there,” Ratchet said over commlink. “We don’t know what to expect.”

“We got it,” Arcee assured him as she, Bulkhead, and Optimus approached the red, scar-covered ship before them. All three had their weapons up and ready for anything.

“Still no sign of Bee,” the hulking green mech behind her grunted, keeping his optics online for anything that could tell them what happened.

The scout never checked in when they called to bring him home. They went to look for him and found the ship uncloaked, the door wide open, but no signs of struggle. There was definitely another bot here, though. An extra, unidentifiable set of pede-marks in the dirt indicated it. In fact, Bumblebee’s own tracks led into the ship, but not out.

Optimus internally cursed himself. He knew it was a bad idea to leave the curious, impatient mech alone with the ship. But it had been days and he hadn’t done anything rash, there was no reason to think he would do it now. After all, they’d said they were going into the ship that day. Why couldn’t he have waited a few more hours?

Arcee went first, being the smallest, stealthiest, and most likely not to trip any traps. She moved carefully as she ascended the ramp. So far she didn’t see anything. No motion-sensors, no trip-lasers. She kept her blaster poised and ready but there was no sign of an ambush either. As soon as she was clear of the boarding ramp she looked around. The inside was just as the exterior was indicative of. A small ship, maybe comfortable for two but three would definitely be a crowd.

“All clear, guys! Come on up!” she called down.

As the two larger mechs joined her it confirmed that thought. The three of them standing in the main bulk of the ship wasn’t cramped, but there wasn’t much room for maneuvering. The cockpit showed signs of disuse for the last week or so, meaning it definitely hadn’t been taken out while they weren’t watching it. However, there were definite signs of life in the rest of the ship. The shelves lining the bulk had spaces where things had recently been removed. And judging by the rest of the contents that were left, that would be a problem. It was all weapons of all shapes, sizes, and builds. This was quite a collection.

There was a room on either side of the bulk. The left one was a storage area. Determining by the meager amount of energon and oil there for consumption, there was likely only one person of residence on the ship. There was supposed to be two they could tell, since there were parts of the ship that had been bare and untouched for what had to be at least centuries. They weren’t kept particularly clean, but the bot who owned the ship was taking care not to use them.

“Man, this guy really likes his weapons,” Bulkhead commented, picking up a rapid-fire assault laser rifle. “There’s enough in here to supply a team. Depending on how much he took with him the whole collection may be enough for a small army.”

“Don’t touch anything!” Ratchet’s vocals snapped through the commlink. Even though he couldn’t see them he could just tell that Bulkhead was doing just that.

“He’s right,” Optimus agreed, watching Arcee go into the room on the right. The only thing it could be was living quarters. She was hoping to get a feel of who they were dealing with. “We don’t know what he could have done in here. In order for him to have timed the capture of Bumblebee it means he planned all of this. He laid out the welcome mat for us to come onto his ship for a reason. We have to be cautious.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Bulkhead muttered, putting it back. Still, he looked at the collection, mulling over the fact that a couple of the weapons looked very familiar.

“Uh… guys?” Arcee called from the living quarters. “You might wanna come in here.”

The two mechs looked at each other, abandoning their observations to join her. The living space was a tight fit for all three, but as soon as they looked where she stood in the corner they understood why she wanted them in there.

“Weapons aren’t the only thing this guy likes,” the soldier said, jabbing a servo behind her.

There was a table there with holo-projectors covering it. They were all of the same mech.

Knockout.

It was both fascinating and strange. Almost like a timeline of his lifecycle. Some of them had him as a much younger, new model. Others were closer to his current state. But all of them were set up in almost meticulous fashion, each projection offsetting the one next to it perfectly, as if they were all pieces of a puzzle.

Bulkhead picked one up, turning the 3-Dimentional image in his servos. “This guy has some kinda… unhealthy obsession or something with the Doc.”

“An admirer, maybe?” Arcee shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. I hear Knockout got around a lot before getting stranded here on Earth.”

“These aren’t taken from a distance or something. Not casually, either,” the green mech said. The one he was holding had the cherry red mech sitting on a platform of some sort, one leg brought up with the other dangling over. He was leaning back on one arm while the tip of a servo of the other was being chewed coyly between his dentals. “These were very personal. This guy was more than an admirer.”

“A bondmate.”

Arcee and Bulkhead both turned to Optimus, who was looking at the berth in the middle of the room. “No way,” Bulkhead scoffed. “The Bad Doctor? A bondmate? I can’t see it.”

“This berth is a two-bot model. But one side hasn’t been recharged in for an extremely extended period of time. And there are spaces of the ship that aren’t being used despite them being perfectly open for it.” The leader moved over to them and looked at the holo-projector in Bulkhead’s servos. “Look closely at the projections. There’s something missing.”

Arcee knelt next to the table, meticulously looking over all of them. After a moment a light of realization dawned in her optics. “There’s no sigil.”

Bulkhead looked at her surprised then checked the one he was holding. “Well, I’ll be scrapped. None of them do?”

“Not a single one.”

“But he’s a Decepticon, why wouldn’t he…” The Wrecker trailed off as it came to him, plain as day. “He’s a _neutral_?”

“A ‘Con for hire,” Arcee said in exasperation. “How’d we not see it? That’s why he’s so different from most ‘Cons.”

“If this ship belongs to his bondmate, that means only one possibility for Bumblebee,” the Prime said gravely.

Arcee and Bulkhead looked at each other, not wanting to say it.

Ratchet said it for them. “Megatron has Bumblebee.”

 

()()()()()

 

“Well, well.”

Bumblebee jumped to his pedes at the sound of that vocal.

“Soundwave informed me that you were awake.”

_“Megatron!”_

The Decepticon leader was sneering at him through the force field separating the two. “I should start paying you, Autobot. You spend more time among us than my own men.”

 _“Come to gloat? I’m not in the mood for this!”_ the sports car huffed (as well as a bot could huff through a pattern of beeps and blips, at least).

“You misunderstand me,” Megatron said, sounding at least somewhat sincere. “I came here to thank you. After all, if it weren’t for you I would not be online. Or at least, conscious.”

Bumblebee seethed so outwardly that his door-wings vibrated. _“You’re not welcome. Why don’t you and your lackeys leave me alone?”_

The large Decepticon chuckled. It was a low, dangerous sound. “Of course, my young guest. Don’t worry, however. Soundwave is working on finding the perfect location to move you while your teammates search. Until then…” he bore his pointed dentae maliciously. “Farewell, Autobot.”

Bumblebee watched him go, glaring. He waited until the sounds of his heavy pede-steps receded down the hall before he let out a piercing beep, kicking a wall in frustration. This was so stupid. How could he let himself get caught like this? By the Decepticons, no less?

No, worst. By a Decepticon for hire. That slagging Lockdown.

He was led so easily into that trap. Practically begged the bounty hunter to capture him. Why didn’t he listen to Optimus? Why couldn’t he be patient like most bots? First he was captured by Megatron and lost his voice. Then he plugged into Megatron’s processor and almost lost himself. Now he completely disregarded orders and got captured again. What did he possibly have that he could lose at this point?

 

()()()

 

Breakdown stretched and vented contentedly. Knockout lay against him, one arm flung across his large, barrel chestplate. They interfaced again as soon as they’d stumbled into his living quarters. This time, however, they made sure that both of them were getting the satisfaction they were craving. Now it was time to go into recharge in the heated afterglow of their pleasure.

At least, for him it was _supposed_ to be that time. That was quite impossible when his door unceremoniously slid open, something it wasn’t supposed to do since he’d locked it. He raised the arm his medic wasn’t pinning down, hand retracting and being replaced with the hammerhead he battled with. Whoever just interrupted the recharge he was drifting into, they were about to regret it.

The figure at the door snapped the light on, revealing himself to be Knockout’s bondmate. Lockdown glanced at the hammer raised and daring him to get close enough to feel it, but his gaze drifted down to the cherry red mech who hadn’t been roused by all this. Unsurprising, as Knockout was a rather heavy recharger. Oft-times it took nothing short of the Dinobots themselves crashing in and destroying the place to wake him.

“How’d you get in here?” Breakdown hissed, not putting his weapon away.

Lockdown didn’t answer for a moment, just staring at his bondmate, before turning his crimson optics back to the soldier. “Universal override. Never leave the ship without it.” He pointed at the medic. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

“And I believe you can blow it out your tailpipe. I’m not waking him just so you can drag him off,” the other mech snapped. He then grinned. “Don’t think he’d wake up even if you wanted him to. I’m sure you know what he’s like after a good ‘face.”

The black and green bounty bot ground his dentae together, stepping forward menacingly. That had definitely struck a sore circuit. He was a few feet from the berth when Breakdown pulled his hammer back threateningly, with obvious intent to strike.

“Don’t think I won’t knock your dentae outta your ugly mouth if you take another step, bounty hunter.”

That actually caused Lockdown to stop where he was. His face shifted from anger, to surprise, then something unreadable. He looked from the determined faceplate of Breakdown back down to Knockout. The only movement from the medic had been him shifting to melt himself further into the blue and white mech whose berth he was sharing. He raised a hand, as if to make a point, but a frustrated sound was all the left his mouth. “Fine, you win this round. But don’t think you won the war, glitch,” he snapped, turning on his heelstrut and marching out the door again. He looked back for half a klik before venting loudly and turning the light back off, closing the door again as he left. There was a tell-tale beeping sound as he even reset the lock.

Breakdown let out the air he was holding in his vents, relaxing and returning his hand to normal. That had been a close one. He didn’t know what would have happened if Lockdown called his bluff. Not that he didn’t want to smash a few dents in the bounty hunter, but he knew if he did then Knockout would be pissed at _both_ of them. And he rather liked being the only one the medic was willing to talk to.

As if the sound of his hydraulics releasing tension was all it took, Knockout stirred from his recharge. “Breakdown?” he inquired groggily, raising his helm and blinking at the soldier. “Everything okay? Your systems sound stressed.” With his audio receptors pressed against the larger mech, Breakdown wasn’t surprised his experience in repairs gave him the ability to read him so easily.

“I’m alright. Just… had to deal with an annoyance,” Breakdown said.

Knockout made a face, obviously not buying that answer. “If something’s wrong, you should tell me,” he said, folding his arms over the soldier’s chest and resting his chin on them. “I’m your partner, and I can’t very well be an effective one if you’re hiding things from me.”

Breakdown wanted to retort how ironic that was coming from the mech he only learned a couple orbital cycles ago had a bondmate. He thought better of it, though. Instead, there was one question that had been bothering him ever since he encountered Lockdown earlier that day. “Knockout, was there… someone else you favored over Lockdown before?”

“Someone else I…?” Knockout looked confused for a moment, not processing the question. Breakdown gave him a few, and sure enough his optics lit up in realization. “Breakdown, you were talking to Lockdown, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I met him earlier. He seemed real threatened by how close we are. Said something about you leaving him for someone else before.”

The medic sighed, burying his faceplate in his arms. “I can’t believe he… honestly, he simply won’t let that go.”

“What happened?” Breakdown asked. When he got hesitation in response, he added, “You’re the one who just said we can’t be keeping secrets from each other.”

“I…” the cherry red sadist was obviously looking for an excuse not to talk about it, but finally gave in. “Breakdown, you have to understand that when it happened I was… I was a very different mech than I am now. I was a lot younger, and impulsive. I thought… I don’t know exactly what I thought, honestly. I guess I simply thought I knew what I wanted. But the truth was I didn’t know anything.”

“Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

Knockout took in a breath, venting it out slowly. Breakdown had never seen him look so _vulnerable_ before. He supposed he couldn’t blame him. After all, this was the life he’d tried to keep Breakdown from finding out about. “I suppose it all started…”

 

()()()FLASHBACK()()()

 

“…I couldn’t just let it go. I mean there was nothing about that color-scheme that _didn’t_ clash. So I told her exactly what she looked like, and she gets all _offended_ …”

Knockout nodded absently, letting the rotary-buffer he held bring his finish to a gleaming shine. He held it against the outside of his leg, moving it in slow circles. It was calming to do, and he felt like he had too much pent-up energy from the last few decacycles they’d spent in space. The femme on his comm-screen just kept prattling endlessly, changing subjects every couple of minutes.

“…but of course that was nothing compared to…”

The transmission suddenly muted, Knockout looking up to make sure it wasn’t cut off for one reason or another. No, she was still talking, unaware of the fact that he couldn’t hear her anymore. She wasn’t even looking at him, instead taking different base-coat samples and holding them next to her own chestplate and looking in a mirror.

“Hey, kid, I got a call for a job, but I’m gonna need you,” Lockdown’s vocals came through the intercom on the wall next to him. “Get your aft into the cockpit.”

Knockout sighed dramatically. “Honestly, you couldn’t have walked over here to talk to me yourself? You’re getting lazy in your old age.”

“I thought you don’t like me comin’ in there when you’re talking to your friends. Something about me having a tendency to call them offensive pet-names.”

“What you call them isn’t pet-names. They’re just plain rude. And I’d appreciate it even more if you didn’t just mute them.”

“It’s just Motor-Mouth. She probably hasn’t even noticed yet.”

Knockout glanced at the screen. Sure enough, her mouth was still moving and she still wasn’t giving any indication that she knew she was muted.

“That is _far_ beyond the point,” the cherry-red mech huffed.

“Just get in here, kid.”

Knockout was going to put in another last-word, but the intercom beeped as it was shut off.

“…-estly think that it was acceptable for an event like that? I mean, I felt offended just looking at it, and…”

“Esmeral, I have to go,” Knockout cut her off. “There’s been an… emergency in the cockpit. Lockdown simply can’t do anything without me.”

The pearlescent green femme gave him an indignant look, but then vented. “Alright, alright. Honestly, I don’t know why you put up with him. He’s just a big jerk,” she huffed.

“I know, but he’s my big jerk,” the medic winked. “I’ll call you back when I can, I promise.”

“You better.”

As soon as the transmission was ended Knockout hurried to the cockpit. Lockdown didn’t usually call him there, so it had to be important. He wasn’t sure why the bounty hunter was so paranoid about him being near the pilot’s seat. Sure, he crashed into another ship trying to park once, but it wasn’t his fault. If that warship wasn’t taking up half the docking area he wouldn’t have had any trouble at all. And the soldiers didn’t do much more damage to the paintjob than it already had.

The bounty hunter was waiting for him there, sitting with his seat facing the comm-screen to the right of the controls. “C’mere, kiddo,” he said affectionately, patting his left leg.

Knockout immediately went on alert. Lockdown only was this overtly affectionate when he wanted something. He didn’t trust this. “What’s going on?” he asked warily.

“I’ve got a call in a couple’a cycles, I need you where he can see.” Well, at least he was being honest. And the medic never minded being shown-off to his clients. It was rather amazing what effect he had on some bots. One particularly ogle-happy mech agreed to pay an extra 20% on top of the normal fee just from Knockout asking with his legs crossed a certain way. He told the mech he wanted to get detailed but Lockdown wouldn’t let him spend their hiring fee on it. That was complete scrap, of course, but some dimmed optics and a seductive tone could hide any little white lie.

“And why must I be sitting in your lap for this?” he persisted.

“Come on, humor me, kid,” Lockdown finally insisted.

Knockout looked at the knee again, then back up at his bondmate. When he received an expectant look he ex-vented loudly, rolling his optics. “Fine,” he huffed, sliding onto Lockdown’s lap. He let Lockdown adjust him into the most comfortable possible position. By the time they were done he was sitting with a knee crooked just under his chestplate, one of Lockdown’s arms looped around his waist. He nuzzled his faceplate affectionately into the bounty bot’s neck. “Maybe I should be here for more calls if I get to get cozy,” the medic teased.

“Maybe you should. But I’m afraid you’ll nudge a stick and slam us into an asteroid,” Lockdown muttered into his audial receptor.

Knockout made an offended noise, slapping the green and black mech on the chestplate. “Rude!” he huffed.

“Yep. Now hold that expression.”

Before Knockout could question the command, and as if on cue, the light for an incoming comm flashed on. Lockdown hit the button and another mech appeared on the right-hand cockpit window. “Hey, Afterburn,” the bounty hunter greeted the red and gold mech.

“Lockdown, sorry I had to postpone our call. Something came up and… hello,” the mech on the other end stopped when he realized the one he was calling wasn’t alone.

Knockout was going to greet him back when he realized what Lockdown had meant by ‘hold that expression.’ He’d offended his bondmate purposefully so that he would have a naturally unhappy expression. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he learned long ago to play along. “Hmph,” he instead said, turning his faceplate up.

“Well, isn’t that a pouty creature you have there?” Instead of getting offended by the response, Afterburn laughed a bit. “You must be Knockout. Lovely.” His blue optics swept over the cherry red partner.

Lockdown reset his vocals to get his attention. “You called for a reason, Afterburn. Remember? The job?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. The job. So here’s the situation. I have a… pest problem. A rather big one. I can’t give you the details over comm, but I wanted to make sure you don’t have any problems with things getting messy,” Afterburn returned his attention to the bounty hunter. “I know some bots don’t like anything in which there could be… collateral damage.”

Lockdown raised an optic ridge. “You know this is a secure line, right? You can talk freely here.”

“One can’t be too careful. I’m in a delicate position and I’d rather not risk anything,” the red and gold mech leaned forward. “Just answer me. You don’t mind a big job where things could get messy, yes or no?”

“Depends on the pay,” Lockdown looked down at his still pouting partner. He ran a servo up the red and white faceplate. “Knockout here is pretty high maintenance. Lots’a pricy needs. He gets upset if I don’t deliver. So I can’t take big jobs with little pay.”

Afterburn gave a crooked smirk. “Ah, I can see who the boss is. Then maybe I should be talking to him about payment, not you. What do you think, Knockout?”

The amused tone being delivered to him made it so the medic didn’t have to try hard to act irritated at being there. He looked to the racecar on the screen, narrowing his optics. Instead of answering verbally he raised two servos.

“Two? Two what? Hundred? Thousand?” Afterburn still sounded condescending.

“Put them together. Two-hundred thousand,” Knockout finally spoke.

Afterburn’s smirk disappeared as he visibly sputtered. “Two-hundred _thousand_ credits?!” he echoed. “That’s… that’s excessive! Robbery!”

Knockout turned himself on Lockdown’s lap, crossing his legs in one swift motion. “Afterburn, is it? You don’t seem to understand the charging process of these kinds of jobs. There are travel costs, supplies, fuel, energon. Because it’s a ‘big, dirty’ job, the cost spikes. We charge based on risk. Collateral means that you will be expecting Lockdown to offline bots _other_ than the target. That means we get to tack on a general fee for how many lives he will likely be taking based upon your description.” He leaned forward. “That isn’t robbery, Afterburn. That’s business.” While the mech on the other end of the line was speechless Knockout stood up and turned to leave. He looked back one last time, though. “Oh, and just so you know? Twenty-thousand of it was the outstanding fee for _sassing_ his business partner.”

“I’ll wrap up this call in a minute, kid,” Lockdown called after the medic as he left the cockpit. He then turned back to the screen. “Didn’t I tell you he was something?”

 

()()()()()

 

Knockout seethed on the berth, practically vibrating with rage. He couldn’t believe Lockdown subjected him to that. He didn’t mind being treated as optic-candy. In fact, he found it flattering whenever a bot couldn’t take their optics off his gleaming finish. The one thing he hated over all else, though, was being condescended to. That mech had acted as if the simple act of him sitting in Lockdown’s lap meant that he was nothing more than a… a _pleasure model_. A dumb one, at that.

The door slid open after a few cycles. Lockdown paused when he saw how his bondmate was sitting. Arms crossed testily, legs folded underneath him. He was on guard. “Uh-oh. Kid, you didn’t let him get under your plating, did you?”

“How could you let him talk to me like that?” Knockout snapped.

“Hey, I didn’t know he was gonna act like you didn’t know the business,” Lockdown raised his servos in peace. “I’m on your side, kid. I know you’re a vital part of what I do. But, to be fair, you do tend to play up the ‘pretty arm candy’ routine a bit too well with the customers.”

“Hmph. Well, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with him anymore,” Knockout huffed.

“Uh… well…” Lockdown gave an apologetic look.

The medic stared at him in disbelief before snapping, “No! Don’t even think about asking, because the answer is no! I’m not going with you to meet that… that…” He made a frustrated noise.

“He won’t see me unless you come with me, kid. Come on, he told me he wanted to apologize. I’m sure he feels bad for how he talked to you. Especially after that 20,000 credit… what was it? ‘Sassing’ fee? Real cute, there.”

“I’m sure you liked that a lot. I didn’t overdo it, did I?” Knockout finally deflated, laying back on the berth. “Two hundred thousand credits. I was doing the calculating in my helm on the fly.”

“Nah, sounded about right to me,” the bounty hunter climbed on next to him, wrapping his mismatched arms around the gleaming red frame. “Tell ya what. You come with me to meet Afterburn and I’ll get you that fancy new detailing you saw back in Iacon.”

“Really?” his partner asked, surprised. “You said it was too expensive.”

“It is, but I figure you can use that ‘sassing’ fee to pay for it.”

“You’re not going to forget that, are you?”

“Nope,” Lockdown grinned, leaning forward and kissing him. He nuzzled under his faceplate to get to his neck wires. “I’ll even throw in a wax at that salon you like so much.”

“Now you’re pampering me,” Knockout chuckled, petting the back of his bondmate’s helm with stray servos. “Careful. Spoil me too much and you’ll never get rid of me.”

 

()()END FLASHBACK()()

 

Knockout’s engine made a tired sound as he stretched, stopping the story. “I think that’s a good place to stop for now. I am _far_ too under-energized to skip out on anymore recharging.”

“Whoa, whoa, K.O.,” Breakdown complained. “You can’t just end it right there. I mean… you haven’t even started on what actually happened between you two. From what you described you had a pretty ideal relationship.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your vocals?” Knockout teased. “Listen, it’s a really long story. It will probably take a few sit-downs to even finish. Just be grateful I’m skipping all of the dirty stuff.”   He settled back down under the crook of Breakdown’s arm, nuzzling in. It was his favorite spot to be when he recharged. It made him feel safe and protected.

“Fine. But at least tell me if that Afterburn afthole is the one who you cheated on him with.”

Knockout snorted. “You’re kidding, right? He was just full of himself. And that’s coming from me. I’ll get to the mech who swept me off my pedes next time, okay? For now, recharge.”

“Alright, alright,” Breakdown muttered. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t force Knockout to tell the story. He had a feeling this was his way of avoiding telling the whole thing until he was comfortable enough to admit what happened. So instead he shut himself down, going back into recharge.


End file.
